Courtship Rituals
by peroxidepest17
Summary: ZoSan- From the wedding to life after.
1. Local Customs

**Drabble:** Local Customs  
**Topic:** Tourism  
**Word Count:** 346 (I seem to go over a lot lately…--;;)  
**Pairing:** ZoSan. Never anything else. Ever. so limited  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**A/N:** So using a reference from another anime here. Points to the person that can name it. Teehee.

* * *

"Apparently striking someone across the left cheek is a marriage proposal on this island," Usopp observed sagely as the natives scurried around the crew of the Going Merry, preparing for the upcoming ceremony and subsequent reception feast.

Zoro snorted at the revelation, crossing his arms moodily. "Che. Well _I_ didn't know that."

Sanji kicked him in the head. "I _told_ you should have _taken it back_!! And _before_ the chief proclaimed a celebration and festival in our honor!!"

Zoro growled at him stubbornly. "You _deserved_ it you asshole!!" He hadn't been willing to take it back _then_ and he definitely wasn't about to take it back _now_.

Sanji slapped his hand to his forehead. "Zoro," he seethed impatiently, "in about ten minutes, we're going to be _married_."

The swordsman blinked. "Oh yeah."

Silence.

"Sug_ei_!!" Luffy exclaimed, chasing after a team of islanders carrying a roasted animal two times the size of any horse they'd ever seen. "Meatmeatmeatmeatmeatmeat!!!!!!!"

Everyone ignored him.

"These people are preparing for our _wedding_!! They're preparing their _best_ food and _giving_ us their nicest things and they're going to be super pissed and try to _kill_ us if they find out it's a sham and we don't say something fast!" Sanji screamed at the swordsman in frustration. "So take it _back_ you idiot!!!!! _NOW_!!"

Zoro remained quiet for a little longer, completely unmoved by Sanji's hysteria and apparently deep in thought. "Oi…if we get married, you'd have to serve and obey me and stuff like that, right?"

The blonde's jaw dropped.

Zoro, taking the chef's reaction favorably, smirked. "Doesn't sound so bad to me, this whole marriage thing."

Sanji sputtered in disbelief, a million things to say in response to that on his tongue but unable to find the calmness of mind necessary to vocalize them coherently.

Eventually Sanji found his voice again, though the first thing he said was less than favorable considering their current predicament and yet somehow, the only appropriate thing left to ask in the face of Zoro's idiocy.

"WHY THE HELL DO _I_ HAVE TO BE THE WIFE?!"

**END**


	2. Newlyweds

**Title:** Newlyweds  
**Theme:** Domesticity  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** ZoSan  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** 2,025  
**Time:** 20 mins (minor edits)  
**Dedication:** InuNeko, I hope you like this. Hehehe ;; I await my fanart! :P  
**Summary:** Continuation of the "Local Customs" drabble I did for onepieceyaoi100 like, a billion years ago- Sanji and Zoro adjust to life as a married couple.  
**A/N:** I'm so sorry, InuNeko. I seriously suck. ;; I started this while I was halfway through my paper for Sociology (that was due today) and then finished it ten minutes after I finished the paper, which means it was started on the verge of hysteria and then all of a sudden was finished on the verge of coming off of massive adrenaline shock. Which means lots of incoherence and general stupidity and probably more OOC than even _I'm_ used to dealing with. --;;  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. --;; But I dream. I dream sometimes.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!"

"Die," Sanji growled in response, seemingly in a bad mood whenever Zoro was in a good one.

The swordsman smirked and stalked up behind the blonde. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Cooking, dumbass."

Zoro grinned and slapped him on the ass, quickly ducking the reflexive foot that swung around near the vicinity of his head in retaliation. "Keep up the good work, _sweetheart_," the broader man chortled, striding off with a strut that decidedly pissed the chef off.

This was beginning to get even _less_ funny than it had been last week. Sanji was pretty sure it had been _extremely_ unfunny _then_ as well. But it kept getting progressively and progressively more unfunny every time he got a "honey" or "sweetheart" or "babe" and an ass-grab.

Married.

He was _married_.

To _Zoro_.

Gritting his teeth, the blonde concentrated on keeping the temperature just right on his stir fry, but the flashback image of his more-or-less shotgun wedding to the idiot marimo on that weird Island last week made it horrendously difficult to pay any attention to his _life's calling_.

Usopp kept calling him "Roronoa Sanji, the prettiest pirate bride to ever sail Grand-Line ha-ha-ha".

The idiot's nose wasn't going to be healing any time soon if he kept up with the stupid gags. Chopper sure as hell was tired of bandaging it up everyday since the incident.

But to the point…

Sanji was _married_.

And not to Nami.

He was the _wife_. As the chieftain that had married them had so kindly pointed out.

"ARGH!!!" Sanji screamed to himself not ten minutes later, flipping off the fire and dumping the pan's contents into the trash as he detected very early signs of undesired searing on the outside of his rice.

Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable.

In a horrible mood, he yanked the strings to his apron free and pulled it up over his head, tossing the pink material aside (though with slightly less venom than he would have had it not been a present from Nami-san).

_And why the hell did **he** always have to be the wife?!?!?!!?!?!_

Rolling up his sleeves, he stalked outside the galley in search of his unwanted "husband" to demand some sort of annulment or acknowledgement that what they'd done was purely in the way of avoiding getting _killed_ by an island full of people bent on having them married. A political type wedding. No, a _show_ wedding. Like play acting, or something. You know, _fake_. Not real. _Pretend_.

Whatever. He didn't really care about the technicalities. He just wanted to be _unmarried_.

Fast.

Like, _now_ fast.

Stepping out into the afternoon sunlight, the cook took the time to light up a cigarette to prepare him for his showdown with the swordsman, scanning the deck with wary eyes as he searched for the idiot.

"Oi, what a lovely afternoon to be out and about isn't it, Mrs…"

Usopp got kicked in the nose.

Sanji stalked off without a word, positively fuming and cheeks burning a completely unwarranted shade of pink as Usopp lay sprawled out on the deck for the umpteenth time since he decided teasing Sanji was a good idea. This had to end now. There could absolutely, positively _not_ be anymore…

"Sanji-kun!!"

"Haaaaai Nami-san?!" Spinning around at the sound of her voice, he looked up to see her standing against the railing above him waving, smiling with a sort of completely not-innocent innocence that made his heart immediately swell at the mere sight of her.

For a moment, his bad mood completely dissipated.

"Are you looking for Zoro?" she asked, sweetly arch.

But only for a moment.

He snorted in response, feeling slightly sour again, despite Nami's charming presence. "Not by choice, I assure you, Nami-swan. I'd much rather be looking for you," he preened, gazing up at her adoringly.

She giggled, a sort of feigned modesty that meant she was about to do something deliciously manipulative.

She was _amazing_, his Nami-san.

"That's so sweet of you to say, Sanji-kun," she sighed. "But I'm not your one and only you know…"

"That could be arranged, Nami-san!!!"

She frowned thoughtfully. "But you did promise yourself to one person and one person only at the wedding. I just…wouldn't want to ever stand in the way of something that beautiful…"

"Please do!" the blonde insisted. "Anytime, Nami-san!"

She shook her head. "I couldn't have that on my conscience. You're a _married_ man after all. I didn't buy you that cute apron for a wedding present for _nothing_. It was almost 700 beli, you know."

Sanji frowned. "Which was _wonderful_ of you, Nami-san, but be assured, that idiot means nothing to me!"

"Weren't you just looking for him?"

"To end this ridiculousness," he defended, on the verge of a pout.

She smiled. "Aw, the two of you guys have your first fight? You didn't let yourself have too long a honeymoon, ne?" the redhead asked, resting an elbow on the railing and leaning her head against her arm in what might have been a placating matter.

More likely, she might have been trying to hold back the outright laughter.

Sanji might have been offended if she wasn't _Nami_ and so damn cute.

There she was… (le sigh)

…and here _he_ was, married to _Zoro_.

Which had to end. Now. It was getting downright mortifying when Nami was teasing him so cruelly about it, dangling her cute little temptations in front of his face and flirting with him openly for the _first time_ only _after_ he was "taken" or whatever he was, and that was just…

Her giggling threw his train of thought off track and he blinked, looking back up at her. "Nami-san?"

"Your mind totally goes off on its own whenever Zoro comes up," she suggested slyly, winking at him. "Maybe the honeymoon's not quite over yet, eh?"

"What? I…no, it's…"

"Kaaa, you're blushing! That's so _cute_!"

His mind turned off at her calling him cute.

She might have anticipated that, being as smart as she was (Nami-san was the smartest, most beautiful woman he'd ever known after all…), and on his blank stare, the navigator decided to leap forward and cinch dominance of their entire conversation by deciding that she would close it before he could really properly defend himself.

"I think I saw Zoro talking to Luffy a little while ago," she suggested, pointing in the direction of Luffy's favorite leisure seat. "Go find him and…_talk_…ne?"

Nodding dumbly, Sanji headed towards the front of the ship on her instruction, hoping to finding Luffy still on the Sheep's head and Zoro still close enough to pummel.

No such luck. Luffy was there, staring out over the water of the ocean like there wasn't a single thought going through his mind (there probably wasn't), but Zoro wasn't propped against the railing like always, taking his every-afternoon nap. Sanji scowled. Of all the days to ignore a habit…

"Oi…Luffy."

The captain turned, blinking twice at the chef. "Hah?"

Sanji puffed on his cigarette for a second longer before tossing the stub overboard.

"Where's Zoro?" Luffy rotated his head leftward, like he had to physically move his brain to get it started again, or something.

Paused for a second.

Tilted it right.

Sanji waited.

Then, "Shouldn't you know?"

The cook blinked.

Luffy blinked back.

"Why the hell should _I_ know? Nami-san said you just talked to him!"

Luffy picked his nose absently and laughed a little. "Well, you know, cuz you two are all together and…"

Sanji was tempted to throw the idiot overboard. "Never mind. I'll find him myself."

Luffy grinned. "With your super marriage powers?"

Sanji bit the inside of his cheek and told himself that he shouldn't throw the captain over board because it really wasn't his fault. Luffy was too dumb to know any better and Usopp had probably said something about there actually _being_ marriage powers and the idiot had _believed_ him, because he was just too dumb to really know any better and it wasn't _his_ fault.

Usopp was probably going to die from having his face kicked in so many times.

But first…_first_…

…to end this idiocy.

So he could cook in peace. And not get his ass grabbed whenever the idiot was in a three-foot vicinity.

And maybe so he could get Nami to flirt with him for real and not just because she thought he kissed boys.

But mostly so that moronic asshole would stop _telling_ everyone that…

He suddenly found himself face to face with his moronic asshole.

They blinked at each other.

Zoro frowned. "Nami said you were looking for me."

Sanji frowned back. "Yeah."

"Sorry. Was gone."

"Hah?"

Zoro held up a good sized carcass of something covered in blood, slimy, and really, really dead. Part of Sanji's poorly reacting brain realized the other man must have done some "Zoro fishing" which meant he'd jumped overboard with a sword, dived really deep, and killed the first thing that's face pissed him off.

He regarded the fish steadily, noted that it was almost as tall as Zoro and had fangs that were big enough that the swordsman probably had fun killing it. He snorted. "What the hell is that?"

The swordsman gave Sanji his best "are you stupid?" look. "Fish."

"And…?"

"You said you needed some for dinner."

The chef's eyebrow arched. "When did I say that?"

Zoro's "are you stupid?" look intensified a level or two. "This morning."

"You _listened_?"

"Well…yeah."

Sanji snatched the dead animal before Zoro let it bleed all over the both of them. "Uh…okay."

The swordsman grinned like he'd accomplished something very important and was about to get some booty.

Sanji kicked him before his hand got anywhere near his ass and turned back towards the galley. Examining the carcass in his hand, the blonde's chef instincts immediately set in and he began to develop a strategy on the proper butchering and preparation- it looked like it would have several good steaks in it, but maybe filleting would…

The sound of footsteps behind him made him acutely aware that Zoro was following him.

He stopped.

The footsteps behind him stopped.

He suddenly remembered there was something he had been planning on taking care of. Like, _now_.

"Why are you following me?"

"To uh… help."

"Hah??" Sanji realized, with much trepidation, that he was beginning to sound a little bit like Luffy.

"You uh…cook. I'll…set the table?"

Sanji blinked. Twice. Examined the animal for anything that looked like it could have poisoned Zoro with some sort of hallucinogen before he'd managed to kill it. He didn't see anything but… "Are you sick?"

"Che. No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Zoro looked like he was on the brink of being annoyed by the questions.

Sanji blinked a few more times. He wanted to get everything straight before they continued. "You want to…help me set the table."

Zoro frowned, but looked like he was trying not to let it sink into an outright scowl. "Yeah. I do. And uh… you wanted to talk to me about something? Earlier?" he posited, looking at the blonde quizzically.

The chef's expression turned appraising. Zoro twitched a little under his gaze but managed to stand his ground without making too much of an idiot of himself and getting outright _fidgety_.

Zoro… getting supplies. Meant Sanji didn't have to get them himself. Or rely on Luffy, who would probably eat the meat raw before it got to the kitchen. Or Usopp, who would probably end up being the one hunted by the meat. And Zoro…setting the table. And Zoro _listening_...

The chef smirked a little.

Okay. _This_ he could deal with.

"It wasn't important," Sanji said after a second, deciding that maybe the whole play pretend thing wouldn't hurt if he let it go on a bit longer. Turning back around, the chef continued towards the galley.

Zoro let out a small sigh of relief on Sanji's smile.

He followed after the cook, and wondered if maybe this _was_ the right way to do things. As a married man, he expected to get some booty _sometime_ soon.

And for the 2,000 beli, Nami's advice _better've_ worked.

**END**


	3. One Month

**Title:** One Month  
**Theme:** More Domesticity  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** ZoSan  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** like, 20 minutes everyday for the past four days. O.o  
**Summary:** Continuation of "Local Customs" and "Newlyweds"- Sanji and Zoro hit the super-special one month mark.  
**Dedication:** , cuz it's supposed to be a birthday-ish present, and stuff. I didn't mean for it to be this WAFFY I swear it. And I hope I got the day right. ;;  
**A/N:** This hit me in the middle of class when I was supposed to be paying attention to the last lecture of the year. It seriously wouldn't stop bugging me, regardless of how stupid I think it is. So I just gave in and wrote it out in-between studying pages of text for my finals and instead of working on one of my two remaining drabble requests like I'm supposed to be doing. I'm a bad person. Bad person. ;; Sorry for the OOC. Cuz I know this one is _super_ OOC. Because yeah…they wouldn't be this…well, cute. --;; I think I just crave some cute all of a sudden. That or finals has made me reeallly stoopid. slaps self  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. ;; But I dream. I dream sometimes.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

One month.

One month and this ridiculousness still hadn't stopped, still continued to go on. Sanji didn't know how much more he could endure. It was embarrassing, strange, and infuriating. It was…

It was…

A grumbled "Mornin'…" and a quick kiss planted on the back of his neck as he worked at the stove.

…it was Zoro.

Whom he would have attempted to kick had it not failed every day for a month now.

Instead he sighed and muttered his customary return greeting of "die" and continued to flip pancakes.

Zoro snorted, stole one of the biscuits cooling on the table and headed topside for his morning workout.

The same as he'd been doing everyday.

_Everyday_.

For a month.

It was…insanity.

Sanji clenched his teeth and brushed at the affected area of his neck before grumbling and pushing on with breakfast.

This was ridiculous! They weren't really married! And sure, it had been okay for a while with Zoro getting supplies for him and Zoro helping him set the table and clean the dishes and open cans and sharpen knives, but Sanji had figured if he overworked the idiot then he'd get pissed off and forget about this whole joke (which it obviously was- some prolonged way of perpetually pissing the chef off) and they could maybe have a laugh about it (after Sanji beat the shit out of Zoro) and things could go back to normal.

Except they _didn't_.

It just kept going.

Zoro came in every morning at a quarter past seven, said a gruff "good morning" to Sanji, kissed him on the back of the neck and shambled out like that was what they were _supposed_ to do every morning.

It made Sanji insane.

Zoro seemed fine.

Which made Sanji even _more_ insane. Because shouldn't that idiot be as disturbed about all of this as he was? Even _more_ disturbed considering this was voluntary behavior on Zoro's part? Was Chopper even qualified to give that kind of psychiatric examination?

This wasn't real! He wasn't…

…there was just _no_ way…

He wasn't married to Zoro, dammit!

Okay, maybe for the first week it had been fine, just a little joke between them or whatever, hardy har-har. But after a month, this had definitely gone on long enough. He'd tried not to lose his temper too much about it, like he had earlier, because that meant he'd do irrational things (like throw away food or kick Usopp in his family jewels rather than his good-for-nothing face), but it seemed like he was just about at the point where those things wouldn't matter any more.

Because it had been a _month_.

To the day.

He'd kept count.

And he was on the verge of completely losing it. Except more.

Like, even madder than he'd been when he found out Usopp had sewn the edges of his and Zoro's hammocks together and sectioned off half the bunk room with a paper screen that had pink hearts and "Honeymoon suite" scrawled across it in red.

Yeah, he was getting to the point where he might be even madder than he'd been about that.

Because this was ridiculous. _Robin_ was openly teasing him for Chrissakes. And these absurd little morning kisses had to stop.

Though he had to admit, he greatly preferred _them_ to the public ass grabbing. His reputation was never going to be the same after that night in town where Zoro got _really_ drunk and…

He sighed and flipped his pancakes. The joke was definitely over. _Today_ even. Right after he finished cooking breakfast (and had Zoro help clean up, ahem) he was going to tell it straight to that stupid-marimo. This idiotic prank had gone on for way too long now.

Yeah.

Satisfied with that, he continued to work on breakfast.

* * *

Meanwhile, Zoro was outside, mostly oblivious to Sanji's irritation as he stared out over the water, arms pumping his weights without much thought on his part. Beads of perspiration ran down his back and his muscles screamed happily under the assault of his 15th 100-rep set. 

This was what life was all about.

Yup. All of it.

This was all he needed.

"Ohayo Zoro!" He gritted his teeth at the sound of Nami's enthusiastic greeting. "What d'ya want?" he gritted out, concentrating on not losing count of his reps now that he had the world's most distracting force in his presence.

"Mmmm… you're still grumpy. Still haven't gotten any?"

Suddenly reminded that there _was_ something else in life he'd been sort of wanting to get, he scowled and set his weights aside before spinning on her. "You said your advice would work," he accused, in the meantime affirming her suspicions.

"Che, so like you," she sniffed. "These things take _time_, Zoro-chan."

He glowered at the moniker but decided against tossing her overboard just cause that would set him back a couple of stone-ages on his make-Sanji-approachable progress. Not that there was much anyway. He still wasn't getting any.

"It's been a month," he protested, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his brow.

"That's not long."

"Yes it is! He makes me do dishes, he makes me sweep floors, he makes me open cans! I'm going crazy here!" he near-shouted, fist clenching.

She rested an elbow on the side-railing and smiled. "You said you'd be up for any challenge, remember?"

"Che. Cuz I thought for the amount of money you were charging it would _work_."

"It's working. He hasn't kicked you yet, ne?"

"Just because I can dodge," he shot back contemptuously (though her observation had been true- Sanji hadn't been kicking back that much lately). He just hated letting her be completely right.

"And he hasn't thrown out any more perfectly good food again, has he?"

His frowned deepened, but he really couldn't argue with that. That first week, when he'd come back to the kitchen with his prize and noted that Sanji had actually _thrown something away_, Zoro'd nearly been beside himself before Nami had very simply told him to stop grabbing his ass while he was working.

So he had.

No more food thrown away.

He hated it when she was right. His scowl told her exactly that.

She, completely unimpressed with his posturing, simply eyed him, still with that stupid superior smile all over her face. "You're the one that said you didn't mind being married, ne?"

He flushed slightly and looked away, crossing his arms. "Well it's not like anything's _different_. Che. I think I'm actually getting _less_."

She frowned. "Getting really drunk and having sex a few times isn't something you should be wanting again," she chastised. "You're _married_ now."

"Which means _no sex,_" he sulked.

"Humph. I thought you wanted something _better_ than that," she shot back, looking slightly impatient now.

"Well, yeah, but…"

"So you're chickening out?"

"I don't chicken out!!!!!" he replied reflexively, not really thinking about what he was saying first.

Her smile returned. "Good. Then you won't back down now."

"I…" he deflated a little and glared at her. "Die."

She laughed. "Perfect. You two will be the happy married couple _yet_. It's my money back guarantee you know!"

He still looked skeptical.

"I _never_ give back money," she promised with a wink. "You know that."

Somehow, Zoro wasn't really comforted.

* * *

Breakfast was the usual noisy affair, though mostly due to Luffy and Usopp's antics rather than any bickering on the married couple's part. Sanji, for the duration, looked introspective and distracted, which in turn put Zoro on edge instinctively, because any opportunity to shout at Zoro that Sanji didn't take advantage of felt weird to the swordsman. 

Zoro ate his meal slowly, didn't fight with Luffy for seconds, and helped to clear the table afterwards.

He threw in a, "thanks for the meal, that was good," in a mumbled sort of inaudible way, and began to wash dishes.

Luffy laughed, made a comment about how Zoro was funny that made the green haired man's ears turn a bit pink, and polished off everything left on the table without another word.

Usopp might have said something too, but no one could really tell around the bandages on his face.

Robin smiled and moved to help clear the table, but Sanji insisted that she shouldn't waste her time when there was plenty of stupid-marimo to shoulder the menial labor.

Her eyes crinkled in a serene showing of mirth as she replied with an _almost_ serious, "so lucky to have such a hardworking man in your life, Sanji-san."

This time it was Sanji's ears that turned slightly pink as Nami, Usopp, Luffy (though he probably didn't get it) and even _Chopper_ burst out laughing, their good humor lasting all the way out of the galley door and then some.

Then it was just Zoro and Sanji, like it had been pretty much every day for the past three weeks.

They cleaned in relative silence, mostly because Zoro wouldn't give Sanji a reason to yell at him, which meant no conversation between the two of them until something like that came up or they just couldn't take the silence any more and made a reason to yell at each other.

Most of the time, it was Sanji snapping.

"Oi… you missed a spot on this one," he chastised, handing back the dish he'd been drying.

"Che," Zoro scoffed, though he took the plate back and began rewashing it without much more protest.

Sanji sighed. "Oi…"

"Huh?"

"What's _wrong_ with you?"

"What the hell are you talking about? What's wrong with _you_?"

Sanji laughed. Well, that was a little better. "Nothing's wrong with me."

"Che. If you say so."

They worked in silence for a little while longer, each giving each other strange, thoughtful glances when the other wasn't looking.

Sanji couldn't really take much of _that_ either. And he had something to tell the idiot, goddammit. Today. He cleared his throat. "Oi Zo…er…dumbass. We need to talk."

Zoro handed him the last dish. "Uh…about what?"

"This whole…this… you know…" Sanji made a general vague gesture to the two of them and the area around them.

"The kitchen?" Zoro arched a confused brow.

Sanji smacked himself in the forehead. "No… the whole…" he pointed to Zoro's left hand. "_That_."

"My hand?"

"No! Che, you're doing this on purpose!!!" Sanji snapped, getting aggravated.

"You pointed at my hand!!" Zoro snapped back, waving said hand in Sanji's face to illustrate.

The blonde swatted at it moodily. "Well, _you know what I mean_," he grit out, embarrassed.

"I _don't_ know what you mean. What do you want with my hand?!" Zoro pushed, slightly bewildered as to why Sanji was suddenly so vehement when a moment ago it had been quiet.

Sanji moved to put dishes in the cupboards, a reason to turn his back to the other man. "You know!! I meant… your _ring_," he finished, voice dropping a few levels.

Zoro blinked. Was the chef _blushing_? He looked speculatively down at his ring. "What about it?"

On his question, the cook made a muffled sound of frustration in the back of his throat. "You _are_ doing this on purpose!" he accused again, spinning back around to face the swordsman.

"What's wrong with my ring?"

"Why do you _wear_ it all the time?!" Sanji asked, the bridge of his nose tinted slightly red. Okay, he probably should have been saying something along the lines of 'Stop wearing it you dumbass, we're not really married!' but this was awkward and kind of strange and Zoro was _dumb_.

On the inquiry, Zoro's confused scowl faded into something that wasn't quite a frown but wasn't exactly pleasantly neutral either. His default face. "Cuz…"

"Why?"

Growing self-conscious under Sanji's intense scrutiny, the swordsman averted his eyes. "Che. Why do I need to explain it to you?"

Sanji looked away too. "Don't have to get all defensive. It was just a question."

"Yeah well, you're an idiot."

The blonde bristled. "What the hell…"

Zoro didn't let him finish his sentence, darting forward suddenly and planting a soft kiss on the cook's lips. Sanji froze and Zoro pulled back almost instantly, looking inquisitively at the chef's shocked expression. "You're an idiot," the swordsman reiterated, watching the beginning blossoms of a full blush begin to overtake the other man's cheeks.

"What…"

"MARINES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Usopp's voice rang out, interrupting the awkward quiet of the galley. "Waaaagh!!! Lots and LOTS of Marines!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Thankful for the reprieve, Zoro dared to shoot the dazed cook a small, crooked half-smile smile before turning towards the door. "Back to work," he murmured, just as the sound of cannon fire exploded outside.

* * *

Usopp had been right. 

There were a lot of Marines.

Which wasn't normally a problem, but Zoro had gone all machismo all of a sudden (okay, maybe not all of a sudden so much as all of a _lifetime_) and challenged the admiral to a one on one, and the admiral was pretty big so he agreed to it, and now both sides were relegated to the sidelines while Zoro and the big admiral guy were posturing and facing off.

No one was really worried about Zoro- he'd beaten bigger enemies after all, but Sanji was mostly annoyed at how the idiot had managed to turn this thing into such a one-man show. Well, that and he was annoyed with Zoro _period_ right now.

Kissing him in the galley had been completely uncalled for.

And weird. Not horrible maybe, but still weird, and Sanji resented the fact that the idiot would spring something like that on him when he'd just worked up the ire to confront him about this whole sordid affair.

Zoro had to just go and do something completely idiotic like that.

Sure, they'd had sex a few times or whatever- drunken encounters of frustration and physical release those secluded nights on the seas, far from any human contact outside of their own crew. Sanji had suspected it had just been something to relieve stress, secret touches in the dark that translated to sexual release and nothing more.

In light of that, the act of kissing was embarrassingly intimate.

Sanji didn't think that Zoro had the right to just do something like that to him whenever he felt like it; to perpetuate this stupid joke farther than it had gone. That wasn't fair.

And on top of that, he was dueling alone, and if the idiot by some freak chance of fate got killed, Sanji would never have been able to give him a good, solid kick in the jaw and a piece of his mind for the liberties taken on his person moment ago.

"Worried?"

The chef turned at the sound of Nami's voice, suddenly distracted from his vengeful thoughts.

"Worried? Ah, of course not, Nami-san." He glared in the direction of the two opponents. "He's an idiot for doing this. But he's not weak," he admitted grudgingly, chewing on his cigarette. Now as long as that freak chance didn't come up…

"Ah, he's definitely stronger than that guy. Such a weak opponent- this isn't like him," she admitted, trying to hold back her mirth at Sanji's obvious anxiety. "He just needed to blow off some steam, I think," the redhead assured the chef brightly. "These past few weeks have been difficult for him, you know."

The blonde scoffed at that quasi-accusation. "I didn't work him _that_ hard."

She smirked. "Maybe he wanted you to work him _harder_."

Sanji blinked, flushing slightly as memories of that clumsy, shallow kiss replayed in his mind. "Nami-san…"

She waved him off and gestured to the fight, her eyes on the combatants. "Ah, sorry, sorry…what married people do isn't _my_ business," she sighed. "Though I wouldn't mind pictures if you two ever…heheh, you know," she added with a self-serving chuckle.

He made to protest. "Nami-san we aren't…"

Except he was interrupted for the umpteenth time today, this time by the sound of a single gunshot.

* * *

Zoro scowled and dodged right as the bullet grazed his arm, leaving an angry trail of blood from the middle of his forearm to the very top of his shoulder. 

The admiral's gun wasn't the one that was smoking, but the swordsman couldn't find it in him to care very much considering it would take more than one measly bullet to kill him and that he'd deal with the rest of the 40-man crew _after_ he'd worked out some of his recent frustration on the guy in charge of currently threatening to sink their ship.

The strangled cry of his would-be gunman rang out on deck, followed by the frightened murmurs of those nearby, signaling to the swordsman that Robin had found and dealt accordingly with the cheater in her own freakishly unique way.

Left to his own devices then, Zoro donned his headband almost jovially and drew his swords. "Ready?" he asked around the hilt of his weapon, eyeing the admiral with a sort of anticipatory good-humor.

The larger man laughed. "Ready to see you die? Anytime."

Zoro grinned and charged forward without any hesitation, a blur of motion that amazed marines that didn't know any better and had pirates who did pulling out decks of cards to while away the rest of the time.

Usopp challenged Chopper to a game of Blackjack, since it probably wouldn't take longer than that, and amused, Robin leaned down to watch. Luffy got bored and wandered past several slack-jawed marines into the galley in search of meat.

Sanji was trying to figure out why his heart was pounding so damn loud in his chest.

Nami frowned, looking up at him inquisitively. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Ah, nothing. The sound just surprised me," he admitted, running a hand through his hair.

Her concern melted into something more conniving. "He didn't get shot, I don't think."

"Che, well if he did, it would be he own damn fault," the chef replied, patting himself down in search of his smokes.

"Sanji-san, you're already smoking."

The blonde blinked at Nami's rather smug indication. "Uh…yeah," he responded a bit lamely upon realizing that she was right.

She chuckled at him. "Too _cute_," she murmured, averting her face to regard Zoro again.

"Hit me," Chopper exclaimed, just as the sound of the admiral's back hitting the deck boomed through the air.

Bleeding heavily, the big marine groaned and rolled to his side, imploring his men. "SINK THEIR SHIP!!" he commanded, before his mouth exploded in a spray of dark blood.

Except by the time he'd finished his sentence, Robin had already sunk their vessel and tossed everyone aboard the Going Merry that wasn't a pirate deftly overboard.

She smiled. "Blackjack."

Nami and Usopp applauded accordingly.

Sanji doused his cigarette and felt a little relieved now that all that idiocy was over and done with.

Craning his neck, Chopper studied the swordsman intently from his place beside Usopp. "Zoro, you're bleeding," the little reindeer exclaimed after seeing nothing more than that one scratch on the swordsman. "Let's go to the infirmary and I'll stitch it up for you," he offered, motioning Zoro towards the sick bay.

"'S just a scratch," Zoro protested, though he started walking at the doctor's prompting anyway.

"Well you're bleeding all over the place," Usopp complained, knowing he'd be the one to have to mop it all up later.

"Heh. Fine, fine…" Zoro grinned to himself as he walked, feeling his energy refreshed after being able to beat the ever-loving crap out of someone who sorely deserved it. After weeks of having to repress that urge when it came to _certain_ things, the swordsman was thankful for the reprieve, as short-lived as it was. He didn't even mind the blood dripping down his arm and the slight burning sensation.

Cuz he felt like he could take on the world again.

Like he could do whatever he wanted.

Like he was unstoppable.

His smile broadened.

Yeah.

Unstoppable.

As he passed Sanji he noticed the cook was studiously avoiding any eye contact with him by looking preoccupied with his smokes, stubbing out the one he'd had in his mouth and patting himself down in search of another. Maybe it was a result of his current adrenaline high, or maybe it was because he was dumb, or maybe it was because he wasn't, but the swordsman was pretty sick of being ignored like that. Without thinking, Zoro paused in front of Sanji, reaching out with his non-bloodied arm and wrapping it around the unsuspecting chef's waist, spinning the blonde into his chest and kissing him hard before either of them really knew what was happening.

Yeah, maybe it was the adrenaline speaking, but Zoro felt like he could take on the whole goddamn _world_.

He smiled into the kiss, felt Sanji's gasped surprise, the way his body went rigid under the swordsman's assault. He felt the way his arm could hook around the skinny body and crush it to his chest like it was supposed to fit _right there_. But he also felt how the other man's hands went up onto his chest, felt the panicked push, felt himself being shoved roughly backwards.

Sanji stared up at him as the broke apart, eyes wild with disbelief, a pretty little blush that Zoro inexplicably _really liked_ arching from the apples of his cheeks and connecting across the bridge of his nose.

Maybe it was still the adrenaline, but with an expression like that looking back at him, Zoro felt like he was fucking _invincible._

Sanji on the other hand, felt thoroughly ravished and embarrassed beyond words, such that he barely noticed the various hoots and whistles he and the idiot-marimo was getting from the peanut gallery. A thousand things filtered into his mind, though he barely heard them over the sound of his own harsh breathing. Heart racing, he searched his addled brain for something fitting to say in the face of all this outrageousness, for the affront Zoro had placed upon his person for the second time in so many minutes. "Go…" _Fuck yourself, jump off a cliff and die, stab yourself in the head, stick your goddamn sword up your ass, drown yourself, dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it… _

"…get your stupid scratch stitched, dumbass."

Zoro smiled like he'd won the fuckin' lottery. "Sure," he agreed, winking before sauntering off with the sort of pride-filled swagger that Sanji would normally have had no qualms about kicking his ass over.

Instead, the blonde gaped at the swordsman's retreating backside.

Of all the stupid, idiotic…

…did he really just say that?

Nami and Usopp were twittering off to the side and Robin looked like she might be chuckling behind a well placed hand. Chopper followed Zoro towards the sick bay, but not before turning around, grinning, and giving Sanji a thumbs-up before disappearing into the doorway. Luffy was probably raping the chef's refrigerator as he stood here like some sort of moron, panting for breath.

A certain feeling of dread welled in the cook's stomach as he headed towards the galley, eyes large and unfocused, hand brushing over his thoroughly bruised mouth. That…

…that had been bad.

That had been _very_ bad.

He should have kicked that dumbass-marimo in his stupid head!

He should have railed at the idiot, cussed at him, kicked his ass into next Tuesday.

He shouldn't have let him walk off without any physical violence visited on the fucker. Shouldn't have let him stay all smug with his grinning and swagger and self-satisfied bluster.

He _definitely_ shouldn't have said…well, what he'd said. Like he _cared_ or something and…

Sanji patted himself down in search of his smokes.

This was very, very bad.

Pushing himself into the kitchen, he shoved Luffy out without a word, not even muttering in annoyance as he took note of his much-dilapidated inventory, and started cooking again.

That night for dinner, there was cake for dessert. White with vanilla icing, topped with delicately sliced candied strawberries and sprinkled with white chocolate shaved paper-thin.

Nami asked, with that arch little smile of hers, what the occasion was.

Sanji laughed winningly and proclaimed the occasion was her and Robin's beauty.

After they'd finished, Zoro began to clear dishes as the others ambled out of the galley, leaving chef and swordsman to silence for the umpteenth time in so many weeks.

Zoro washed, Sanji dried, and the quiet drove the blonde a little crazy because this joke was really getting to the point of beyond-ridiculous and he should really settle it right now with that stupid-marimo so he could get some peace-of-mind once this whole ugly mess was cleared up.

"Oi…dumba…er, Zoro…"

"Hmmm?"

"Ah…" Sanji trailed off, eying the other man, who looked preoccupied with his attempts at scratching off a particularly stubborn bit of food from one of the plates.

"What is it?" Zoro prompted, looking up into Sanji's eyes after another minute of silence from the other man.

The blonde turned away. "Che. At least take off your ring when you do dishes, will you?"

"Sure."

**END **


	4. Nighttime

**Title:** Nighttime  
**Theme:** More Domesticity  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** ZoSan  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** Er… whatever time it took in-between trying write the gift fic I owe. --;;  
**Summary:** Kind-of continuation of "Local Customs" and "Newlyweds" and "One Month"- The art of sleeping, double-hammock style.  
**Dedication:** Kinbu, since yeah, her comment kind of sparked this, though it turned out a lot more serious than I'd initially intended. Also, special thanks to Lorena for her sage advice.  
**A/N:** Yeah, I should so be writing gift fic I owe. But this just kept nagging at me when I was going through my lj and reading a few of the comments I'd received…got some good ones that gave me a few ideas and some really thoughtful ones that made me all bubbly inside, which of course made me want to write more for this series when I really shouldn't be. At least right now. ;; I'm easily impressionable, obviously. But yeah. Onwards…hope this doesn't kill anyone's expectations or anything. Just some random stupidity from me. The semantics of double-hammock sleeping was definitely hard to convey clearly. Bear with me? ;;  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. ;; But I dream. I dream sometimes.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

His excuse was it was cold.

Not just cold. If it was just cold, that wouldn't really be enough of an excuse.

It was fucking _freezing_.

Which was why he was currently where he was.

That was the only reason.

Well, that and the fact that he knew jack shit about sewing and had given up on trying to tear apart the stitches on their conjoined hammocks after he figured that there was a possibility of doing it wrong (Usopp had done something funny to the backstitching, he swore). If he'd proceeded he probably would have destroyed his sleeping place (and Zoro's by default), which would have meant they'd be relegated to either the floor or one of the _others'_ hammocks until replacements could be bought (which Usopp would probably sew together again anyway).

So yeah.

Those were his excuses. Plural.

Sanji shivered and grit his teeth, huddled up against Zoro and tucked snugly under the three blankets the swordsman had piled on top of them earlier that night. Grand Line weather annoyed the hell out of him.

He glared over Zoro's shoulder. Almost as much as that ridiculous screen.

Almost.

He sighed and resolved (again) to take it down in the morning, though he hadn't in the past because then he would still be stuck sharing a hammock with Zoro, but without the barrier keeping the rest of the crew and their perverted thoughts away from the whole situation.

Maybe he could get Nami to lend him the money for a new hammock. Or at the very least convince her to give him enough for a screen that didn't have 'Honeymoon Suite' scrawled across it in bright red paint and hearts.

He scowled to himself and blamed all of this on the idiot whose body heat he was currently stealing.

If he wasn't so goddamn cold, he'd kick the jerk out and just commandeer the whole hammock to himself.

He'd done it before after all, though he'd felt inexplicably guilty about it in the morning when he woke up to find Zoro propped up against the nearest wall, facing him like some sort of perverse human watchdog from under the coat the idiot marimo'd used as a makeshift blanket through the night.

Stupid conscience.

The blonde muttering something unintelligible and squirmed self-consciously, feeling the weight of Zoro's hand lying heavy on his side, the fingers resting firmly against the curve of his waist like he wasn't going to let go anytime soon. This was definitely not the chef's prime choice in sleeping arrangements, but he had to hand it to the idiot swordsman and his large muscle mass- at least it was warm.

Well, mostly warm. He frowned and looked down towards his feet, where his toes were currently complaining about being colder than the rest of him. He would have indulged them earlier like he had the rest of his body when he'd inexplicably snuggled up to Zoro in the dead of the night (only after he was certain the idiot was asleep thankyouverymuch), but he had a policy about keeping anything below the belt far, _far_ away from the other man.

Which would explain why he couldn't feel his pinky toe anymore.

And that was troublesome because really, he needed all parts of his feet intact if he was going to be able to properly kick Usopp in the face tomorrow when the idiot made whatever sleazy comment he was going to make about Sanji's current marital (_not married, dammit!_) state.

After much deliberation, and more angry screams coming from his feet he decided to concede to his toes' requests in favor of losing them to frostbite. Steeling his jaw and scooting his hips closer, he hid his face in the curve of Zoro's throat as he began to surreptitiously nudge his frozen feet in-between the small gap at the swordsman's calves. Hopefully the idiot would stay fast asleep and never know this had ever happened. Ever.

Ah. There.

That was definitely much bet…

"Geezus _fuck_ your feet are cold!" Zoro hissed sharply in his ear before he could even finish his thought.

Sanji almost shouted out loud from his surprise, but there was suddenly a large, warm hand clamped over his mouth. "Quiet, or you're gonna wake up the whole damn ship," the swordsman murmured, blinking at the blonde with a half-annoyed half-asleep expression on his face.

Sanji immediately skittered backwards on the hammock and away from that imposing hand, fast enough to have tipped them both onto the ground if Zoro hadn't used his quick reflexes to shift his weight back as well, counteracting the sudden change in mass from the center to either of the sides.

"You scared the hell out of me, asshole!" Sanji hissed below his breath accusatorily, feeling his cheeks blooming into a full blown blush and hoping it was dark enough that Zoro couldn't see.

"Yeah well…your feet are cold," Zoro replied, furrowing his brow but not looking too angry about the whole situation.

Sanji turned away. "Just…nevermind…sorry," he muttered, turning on his other side so his back faced Zoro. He shuddered and burrowed as deeply under the blankets as he could on this new cold spot, hoping that the slight rise in the middle of the hammock where the two had been connected would partially shield him from Zoro's sleepily confused gaze and the fact that a few seconds ago he'd been wedging his way between the other man's legs.

He frowned and stubbornly closed his eyes. No use thinking about that now, he'd just have to deal with warming himself up.

Even though he'd spent so much time easing himself into the warm part of the middle earlier.

He sighed and pulled the blankets over his head, breathing slowly as he waited for his heartbeat to calm down and the hammock under him to start warming up with his body heat.

Zoro's frown deepened as he regarded the shivering chef's skinny backside from his half of the double hammock.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and no longer anywhere near comfortable. Cursing Sanji in his mind, he wondered how the other man would react if he scooted forward and reached out for him. It was too damn cold to be so skittish and seeing as to how they'd been _married_ for a little over two months now the swordsman didn't see what the big deal was about sleeping close to one another. Plus he'd showered right before bed, and he didn't smell or anything. So there wasn't really any reason to be acting this way.

Zoro's feelings might have been hurt if he was the sensitive type, but as it was, he was cold, tired, and after having enjoyed Sanji being curled up against him for the better part of the night, was resolved not to settle for anything less.

He shifted his weight forward slowly, reaching out his hand towards the blonde's shoulder. As he moved towards the middle of the hammock the slight rise at the edges that were sewn together at the center flipped inside out, transforming it from two separate outside shelves to a single, central hollow, much like the one they'd been nestled in a few seconds ago.

Being heavier than Sanji, his movements destroyed the little shelf the cook was currently lying on instantly and he began rolling ever-so-slightly towards the swordsman. Zoro steadied him with a hand while he settled himself comfortably in the middle before easily rolling the blonde on top of him.

That was better.

The chef stiffened in surprise at his sudden change in sleeping position. "What the hell are you doing?!" Sanji growled at the other man in a fierce whisper before Zoro could even try to close his eyes.

The green-haired pirate blinked up at the face above his, noting the chef's expression.

He decided it looked more surprised than pissed off right now, which was a good sign. He shifted his shoulder and wrapped both arms around the blonde, clasping his hands together and resting them on the small of Sanji's back. "'s cold," he murmured by way of explanation before closing his eyes.

Sanji's jaw dropped, face bright pink as he tried to squirm out of Zoro's hold. "You can't just do stuff like this!" he protested, trying to keep his voice down despite his panic but probably failing miserably anyway.

He was not prepared to sleep stomach-to-stomach, chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip with this idiot.

Not in a million years.

Palms spread on Zoro's pectorals, he pushed upward to dislodge himself without tipping them both to the floor, unable to use his legs because of the limited space. "Idiot! Lemme go!" he hissed, sounding more and more distressed with each passing second.

"Oi…relax, huh?" Zoro murmured, moving one hand to the back of Sanji's head and pushing down so that the blonde's nose was pressed up against his collarbone. "Be quiet. Sleep. 's cold."

"You obviously have no idea what's going on here!" Sanji continued to gripe against the other man, butting Zoro's chin with the top of his head in flustered protest.

"I do understand. You talk too much and you won't keep still," Zoro replied through gritted teeth though he still refused to open his eyes. "That's what's going on here."

Sanji butted him again, trying to worm his way out from Zoro's embrace by extending his arms and sliding downwards "If you'd let go of me it'd stop, you idiot!"

Zoro responded by shifting his legs, wrapping one around the chef's squirming hips. "Oi," he started, taking a deep breath, "I can't be responsible for what happens if you keep wriggling like that on top of me."

Sanji froze.

Zoro allowed himself a small smile and cracked open an eye. "Now sleep."

There was quiet for a little while, nothing but the sound of Sanji's ragged breathing. But he'd stopped moving, and Zoro took that as an indication of acquiescence, letting his eye slide shut again and relaxing the muscles in his shoulders.

However, minutes later he felt Sanji brace himself on his arms on top of him before the chef started talking again.

"Humm?" The swordsman made an inquisitive sound in the back of his throat in response.

"Leggo," Sanji repeated, though softer than before. He looked downward, letting his bangs fall into his face. "C'mon Zoro, this isn't funny."

His tone was enough for Zoro to open his eyes again. "Oi… what's wrong now?"

"I said, this isn't funny," the chef persisted, voice dropping another volume level. His hands clenched on Zoro's shoulders, digging into the other man's skin. "You have to stop doing things like this."

Zoro's brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Cuz it's not funny, asshole."

"Who said it was funny?"

Sanji turned his head away. "Just…"

Zoro reached up and took Sanji's chin in his hand, dragging the chef's eyes back to his. "Who said it was funny?" he repeated stubbornly.

Sanji could feel the cool metal of Zoro's ring against his cheek and tried to pull away. "No one said it was funny, cuz it's not," he muttered. "Now leggo."

"No."

"I said…"

"No. It's cold tonight. And I like sleeping with you."

Sanji's face burned. "It's been more than two months already! Stop saying things like that. I said it's not…"

"Yeah, it's not funny." Zoro let go of Sanji's chin, dropping his arm back around the other man. He stared intently up at the chef. "No one's laughing."

"Then it was a bad joke," the blonde shot back obstinately, averting his eyes again now that he could. "And it should end right now."

Zoro scowled, and Sanji suddenly felt the arms around him moving, the weight lifting. The swordsman was finally letting him go.

Feeling a surge of grateful relief, the blonde made to roll off of the other man upon being freed, but as soon as the weight was gone from his back he felt the warmth of Zoro's large palms on either side of his throat, two thumbs pressing gently into the curves of his cheeks. They turned his face back towards the other man, pulling him downwards into a firm, probing kiss.

After a little over two months, Sanji should have been used to it.

By now, he should have been used to Zoro's ill-timed, impulsive kisses. The way Zoro's lips pressed against his, heavy and firm like the rest of him, should have been familiar by now. At least as familiar as having Zoro's hands on him, as familiar as his smell and the taste of his breath and the press of his chest. He should have been used to the way the marimo kissed too, like he was fighting, like there was something on the line if he didn't win, as if he'd be breaking one of his precious promises or worse if he lost.

He'd kissed him enough times that Sanji should've been used to it by now.

But Sanji didn't think he'd ever be used to it, didn't want to be, especially in situations like these, where the idiot kept doing things and saying things that confused him, embarrassed him, surprised him.

He struggled against the kiss like he always did, pounded his fist against Zoro's chest, grabbed at his shirt, tried to wriggle away, neck muscles straining against the solid strength of Zoro's hands.

But Zoro pushed steadily on, thumbs tracing circles on Sanji's cheeks, teeth worrying the chef's bottom lip, tongue probing intrepidly onward.

The chef was short of breath now; he suddenly felt too warm even in the chill night air. It was like his strength was being sapped from him and soon he had two fistfuls of Zoro's shirt, felt his back arching, eyes fluttering, calves flexing.

All of it felt like he was losing whatever fight they'd started.

"Nnngh…"

And then Zoro let him go.

Sanji felt the other man pull back and he took in several great big gulps of wonderful air, skin flushed pink to the tips of his ears, hands still fisted in Zoro's shirt. He felt weak and slumped down, shaking against the solid mass of the swordsman as he filled and emptied his lungs while watching the little puffs of breath coming out of his mouth and nose dissipate into the freezing night air.

Then Zoro's arms were around him again, clasped together at his back. "Mmm, you're shivering," the swordsman murmured into his hair. "Told ya it's too cold."

Sanji clenched his eyes shut, feeling exhausted. "Why…"

"Be quiet, will you? It's late. I'm tired, an' you're warm. Go to sleep."

"You're…"

"A perverted asshole, I know." Sanji felt Zoro smile against his forehead. "Now go to sleep will you? 's too damn cold. Night."

And then Zoro was out like a light.

Sanji frowned to himself and stared at the screen that stood mockingly off to the side as he willed his heart rate to return to normal.

Zoro's soft, contented snores rumbled gently in his ears. Sanji wanted to break his nose.

Feeling inexplicably weary, the chef snapped his eyes shut again, slowly releasing the fistfuls of Zoro's shirt he'd still had in his hands.

He was suddenly too damn tired to fight.

And it was cold, and he was sleepy, and he was trapped anyway.

Resigned, Sanji pillowed his arms on Zoro's chest and laid his head down on top of them in an attempt to get comfortable. Zoro shifted slightly in his sleep as he felt the chef's hair tickle his cheeks but didn't wake up.

The blonde let out a defeated breath.

At least he could still write this off to the cold when he woke up in the morning.

Zoro was pretty warm, after all.

**END**


	5. Meeting Halfway

**Title:** Meeting Halfway  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Feedback:** (yes!)  
**Theme: **More Domesticity  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** ZoSan  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** Er… too long. O.o And I didn't even edit either (god there must be six billion mistakes in this… --;;)  
**Word Count: **4,946  
**Summary:** Continuation to "Nighttime"- It's time to stop playing games and make a decision.  
**Dedication:** Erm, my brother again? Because it's his birthday and Zoro's birthday and um… he doesn't like yaoi. DAMMIT.  
**A/N:** Bleach has been eating my brain. Which is why this might be… totally out there. My brain has been _eaten._ Anyway, apologies for the long interim… did I mention my brain was being eaten? Uh…well, looks like this is the last bit I'm going to put into this series, unless I'm lying, which I very well could be (unconsciously, I swear!). But right now I've convinced myself that this is the last installment of this silly little arc, and hopefully as an ending it won't put too many people out. I'm really bad at closure? Yes I am. But you know, I could still be lying without knowing it and this might not actually be the end. Except _I_ think it is. Uh, take that as you well. My brain has very obviously eaten, because everything I just said doesn't make sense even to _me._ --;; Er, I hate this btw.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. --;; But I dream. I dream sometimes.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

_Chop_.

This was good.

_Chop._

This was normal.

_Chop._

The bizarre world he'd found himself living in for the past six months was finally righting itself.

_Chop._

The universe was realigning itself into its proper position. The Earth was no longer orbiting the moon.

_Chop._

This was _good._

_Chop_.

"Dammit!"

Sanji scowled at the various sizes of onion-bit he'd come up with in the course of his cutting, one chunk of shiny white looking big enough to smother some of the smaller slivers and several others looking like they'd still lose, but put up a noteworthy battle against the giant-monster piece.

The shitty old man would've had his balls for breakfast if he'd seen what a horrible job he was doing on such a simple task.

And whose fault was this?

The blonde eyed the now-rock-hard, ice-cold biscuit he'd set aside from the rest of the batch earlier this morning, halved and smothered in a good amount of butter and honey.

It stared back at him, looking pathetically small and strangely enough, lonely.

He turned away, making a scoffing noise in the back of his throat before resuming his task of onion mutilating.

_Fine._

This was just _fine._

Great in fact.

This is exactly how things should be.

Outside, he heard the rhythmic clang of Zoro's weights, felt the slight shift in the ship's balance as those ridiculous monstrosities rose and fell under the guidance of the swordsman's muscle.

The back of Sanji's neck felt chill.

He hacked the monster-piece of onion into a hundred itty-bitty pieces with perhaps more force than necessary.

Five minutes later and his diced onions were most definitely…minced.

Disgusted with himself, the chef wiped his hands off on his apron and grabbed the lonely biscuit from it's plate on the counter, shoving the whole thing in his mouth and chewing the cold bread slowly as he moved to the ice box and started searching for the steaks he was going to cook with the onions.

Finding what he was looking for, he kicked the freezer door shut harder than he'd been intending to (sort of) and went back to work, all the while praising how the universe was finally returning to normal.

It was a _good _thing

It was.

* * *

Zoro scowled and set down his weights, the smell of frying meat making him think of the food that would be waiting for him and the rest of the crew in another few minutes as well as the food that had been waiting for him (and probably still was) from earlier this morning.

He'd called it progress when after two or three months, Sanji had started setting aside something for him early on, those mornings when he came in before anyone else was up and greeted the chef in his usual manner before he would filch a hot biscuit directly from the baking sheet where they were cooling as he headed outside to exercise.

The first morning when it had been waiting there, on its own plate and spread thick with butter and honey, the swordsman had been surprised. Had been so ready to gloat.

Sanji'd scowled at his expression and resumed cutting whatever it was he'd been cutting, scoffing and saying, "well, if you're going to eat it, you might as well eat it the right way, asshole."

Zoro, wisely forgoing the gloating, had taken it and said nothing except "Good morning," before kissing the back of the blonde's neck and stealing out the door.

He'd gotten kind of used to it after that.

Wiping sweat off of his neck he took a moment to close his eyes and relax a little, the satisfactory screaming of his muscles momentarily drowning out whatever internal imbalance he was feeling.

Right now, it wasn't important. Right now was his own time, to train his body, his mind, to savor the feeling of hard work and progress as he grew stronger, one step closer to his ultimate goal.

Now wasn't the time to think about these other things.

Like the fact that he hadn't so much as _brushed past_ the Sanji for the better part of a week now.

Zoro grunted as the thought gripped him out of nowhere and stubbornly tried to grab hold of his attention-that-needed-to-be-on-himself. He forcibly pushed the issue out of his thoughts and continued meditating, working on clearing his mind to calm his exercise-excited body.

"_Good morning Zoro-san!"_

So much for peace of mind. He cracked an annoyed eye, stared at his visitor balefully. "Go away."

Nami frowned at him, looking somehow affronted, as if she'd been expecting him to stand up and hug her and tell her it was indeed, a good morning. "I thought meditating was supposed to make you more _peaceable_."

He gritted his teeth and gave up on trying to relax himself at this point, knowing that by her tone, she wanted to say something to him. Or gloat. Probably both. Either way, knowing her, she wouldn't leave him be until she'd said whatever it is she wanted to say.

"What do you want?"

"Just came to check on you," she responded sweetly. "And how are you this fine morning?"

"I didn't get my biscuit. Sleeping on the ground is getting annoying," he reported dourly. "Now go away." The fact that he hadn't had sex in about six months was also on his list of complaints, but she already _knew_ that.

He was beginning to think that her whole "Give me a few months and you'll have regular sex for the _rest of your life_" promise was a load or bullshit.

But more than that…

… he'n the chef… they'd sorta been getting along okay for a while.

Which, the swordsman supposed, to someone like Nami, meant it was time to _destroy._

"Ne, what's with that horrible face?" she asked, not bothering to hide her grin. "Still mad about the whole no-sex thing?"

"Che. No." Well okay, yes, but only a little. Right now he was more annoyed that after they'd been sort of getting along, she'd come along and told him to mess it up.

And that he'd listened. But he was convinced it was mostly all her fault. She was confusing with her words sometimes, dammit.

"Oh? You're not?" She put on her best I'm-here-to-listen-to-_you_ expression. "What else could it be then?"

Zoro frowned and looked away. "I think he's _mad_ at me," he sulked, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

She squealed. Like, really, really, girly-girl squealed. "That's excellent!"

He gaped at her. "Are you stupid! How is this good?" he demanded on her glee.

She gave him a look that said he was a lot dumber than she'd first surmised, and _how was that even possible_? "Zoro…" she began very slowly, "if he's _mad_ at you for ignoring him…"

"Che, _he is._"

"Ne… don't you think that means…" she trailed off meaningfully, gesturing cyclically with one hand.

He frowned suspiciously, not liking the way her hand was moving at all. "What are you getting at?"

She slapped a hand to her forehead. "I'm surrounded by idiots," she muttered to herself. "Zoro… if he's mad at you for giving _up_, don't you think _that means something!_"

He blinked.

She began counting off.

_One._

He frowned, thoughtful.

_Two._

Looked suspiciously at her again.

_Three_.

Looked suspiciously around both of them.

_Four._

Blinked again.

_Five._

"…Oh."

Faster than she'd expected. She made a satisfied noise. "See? My plan is working."

Not wanting to concede to her completely, he smothered his realization. "Uh, maybe," he grunted.

Ignoring his pessimistic attitude, she clapped her hands together gleefully; looking like she'd won some sort of competition--probably by cheating-- and was thinking about how to reap the oncoming rewards. "So, just keep it up."

His brow furrowed. "How long?"

"Until _he_ does something."

"_What_! That's a dumb plan!"

She scowled openly at him. "All my plans have been _working_ remember?"

"Che. Maybe. It doesn't mean they're not _dumb,_" he pushed stubbornly.

She waved off his belligerent, well, nature. "Just keep it up, 'kay? Poor Sanji-kun… he's probably _so confused_!" she purred, taking some sort of sick delight out of the romantic comedy that had somehow become Zoro's life.

He reminded himself _again _that killing her would nullify any progress he'd made with the damn love-chef.

Plus he wasn't really sure she was the kind of person that could be cut by a sword in the first place…

"Ne, Zoro?"

"What?"

"You'll thank me within the week."

"I already paid you!"

She clucked. "Not _that _kind of thank. Not everything is about money, you know," she chastised disapprovingly.

He looked skeptical.

"Okay, not everything is _all_ about money," she amended. "Just trust me."

He snorted at that.

"I mean it!" She tapped his chin thoughtfully. "All right, tomorrow, take your ring off. Put it away, somewhere he won't have a chance of finding it, kay?"

"But then…"

"Just _trust me_," she repeated, supremely confident. "After you do _that_ you'll practically be home free."

He didn't believe her, still frowning severely. "Even if it is a good sign or something, he's _still mad at me_," the swordsman reiterated stubbornly. Letting her have 100 victory over his head was irksome after all.

"You'll make it up to him once things work themselves, out, ne?"

He thought about it for a second.

Okay yeah, he could probably do that.

* * *

Sanji was in a bad mood.

Everyone, except for maybe Luffy, could tell that he was in a bad mood, and pretty much steered clear of him all afternoon, as he stood out on one corner of the deck, smoking like a chimney and staring out across the calm water.

He _knew_ that shitty-ass stupid marimo had been playing around.

Well, good. Even if it was a stupid joke, at least the idiot hadn't been _serious._ Just pretending.

For months.

Had to give him points for having the persistence to keep up a gag like that for so long.

Real funny. It was…

Sanji frowned and flicked away his ash with more force than usual, enough to fling it from his sitting place over the railing and into the water.

Yeah, it was real funny.

So why'd he feel so damn shitty?

Muttering, he drew his knees up and rested his elbows on them, leaning his head back to stare up at the sky.

He was such an _idiot._

Well, they both were, he amended, though for some reason, he felt the majority of the accusation resting on his own shoulders.

Thoughtful, he took another drag of his cigarette before pulling aside the collar of his button-up shirt, taking out a well hidden chain, one long enough where he could take the ring hanging from it and examine it right in front of his face, the sunlight glinting off it, making it shine.

He didn't really know why he still had it. Maybe it was just the pirate thing to do, or something… hoard treasure.

Not that this was any sort of treasure or anything. But it was precious metal…could probably be melted down to…

…ah fuck it.

Frowning, he let the metal hoop slide down past the first two knuckles of his ring finger, hearing the chain rattling against the solid metal as he fiddled with it.

Zoro'd stopped wearing his. He'd noticed it a few days ago at lunch, because there was a patch of skin that was slightly whiter than the rest of the swordsman's left hand in a band just the right size on just the right finger.

Sanji wondered what the idiot had done with his, after all that show about always having it on. Studying his own a little more, he frowned and rolled it off of his finger, reached around his neck and undid the clasp. He gathered the chain and ring in his fist, winding his arm back in preparation to throw it overboard.

He definitely didn't need it anymore, after all.

"Sanji-san!"

He paused mid-throw at the sound of Nami's voice.

"Nami-swan?"

She smiled at him. "Whatcha doin?"

He blinked. "Uh…nothing…" Smiling back disarmingly, he slid his hand into his pocket, depositing the chain and ring as quietly as possible. "What can I do for you, Nami-san?" he asked, sweetly. Because no matter how shitty a mood he was in, that was no excuse to take it out on the ladies.

At his question, she tilted her head to look at him, noting the half-hearted enthusiasm he put into his greeting. Twittering on the inside, she took a seat next to him with as solemn a face as she could summon under the circumstances. "Ne…Sanji-san…" she began sweetly, "did you and Zoro fight?"

He frowned. "Uh…what makes you say that, Nami-san?"

"You've been so moody this past week," she accused with a cloying smile. "It's obvious."

He snorted. "I always fight with him, Nami-san." Taking a drag on his cigarette, he eyed her adoringly. "You and I much better suited to one another, don't you think?" He smiled.

She just laughed in response, a high, mirthful dismissal of his proposition.

Oddly enough, he didn't feel at all disappointed by her reaction.

Bad sign. Stubbing out his cigarette, he laughed out loud to himself. Definitely a bad sign.

"Sanji-san?"

"'s nothing, Nami-san." He smiled at her, because even if there was obviously something very wrong with him, he would never stop being a gentleman. "I didn't…act rudely to you or Robin-san, did I?" he posed after a second, ready to accept whatever punishment such an uncouth act would warrant from brilliant, beautiful Nami-san.

She waved a hand disarmingly at him. "No, no, of course not. But you were a little cold to Zoro," she speculated, covered in sweetness and smiles like beautiful girls were supposed to be.

It always did his heart good to see her like that.

Though today, it lacked the usual, accompanying flutter.

_Bad sign._

"Don't think about that idiot, Nami-san. If I was cold it was because he was stupid," Sanji assured her good-naturedly. "My affections are all saved for you, of course," he pushed, gallantly.

"Aaah…maybe that's why Zoro's been so sad, lately," she surmised, shaking her head. "Have you said anything about how you feel to him?"

The blonde blinked. Sputtered. "Why would I…I don't…I mean…"

She smiled archly. "Ne…Sanji? You wouldn't _lie_ to me ever, would you?"

"Of course not, Nami-swan!" he responded reflexively.

Her eyes narrowed triumphantly. "Good."

The chef opted for silence instead.

_Bad sign._

Waitaminute.

"The idiot's _sad?_ Really?"

Nami paused in the middle of her internal five-count, taking his question as her cue to sigh dramatically. "Miserable," she assured him, shaking her head.

Sanji somehow managed to muster up a half-hearted smirk. "Well…um…good."

He snuffed out his cigarette before it was even halfway done, feeling vaguely ill.

* * *

He'd decided not to go to dinner tonight.

He sat on the deck and polished his swords instead, because that was calming and not infuriating, like that damn perverted chef was. Because his swords didn't make him want to simultaneously be nice to them and wring their necks all in one breath.

But mostly, it was because he'd noticed something more troubled than usual behind the blonde's eyes today, after he'd come back inside from his smoke break on deck, and something instinctive inside of Zoro--the thing he _always_ used when reacting to Sanji—told him that maybe it was time to really leave the idiot alone as opposed to just sort of ignoring him like the swordsman had been doing for the past few days.

This was really it, after all. At least, that was what Zoro's gut told him. Time to stop letting it be game. Make a choice.

He just hoped that idiot made the _right_ one, or Zoro would be supremely pissed.

Though he supposed, if that happened, at least he'd get his money back from Nami.

He wasn't really interested in a refund, however.

Thoughtful, he took the ring he wasn't-wearing-anymore out of his pocket and studied it in his palm, putting his sword down for a moment.

After a second he sighed and picked up his polishing tools again.

He set to work on his ring.

* * *

When Zoro didn't join them for dinner that night, Sanji decided that there was childish, and then there was just _idiotic_.

The asshole swordsman could play whatever games he wanted with Sanji, because the chef was _above that stupid shit goddammit_, but when it got petty enough that Zoro wasn't even coming to eat… Sanji drew the line. Whether Zoro was actually sad or not… well. Some things were just plain _wrong._

After he cleaned up most of the galley, the cook prepared a plate of leftovers he'd somehow managed to wrest from Luffy's grasp with various threats of death and no-meat-for-weeks, storming out onto the deck in search of the idiot who was willing to _starve himself_ because of his stupid little game.

It wasn't like it was a big deal or anything.

Sanji could take a joke. Harmless play between crewmates…something to stem the boredom of those long stretches at sea with nothing else to do.

The blonde could forgive that. Laugh it off, ha ha ha, whatever. It was okay.

But Zoro not eating…

"_Idiot._"

He found the swordsman sitting on the deck looking up at the sky thoughtfully, having just finished cleaning his weapons from the looks of things.

And then Sanji suddenly forgot how angry he was, because there was something that might have been called _nervousness_ creeping into his emotional spectrum right now as he looked at the stupid marimo-head idiot just sitting there looking… maybe as sad as Nami had said.

Well. That was pretty fuckin' unprecedented now, wasn't it?

Sighing to himself, Sanji pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and stepped forward anyway, because dammit, it was just _dinner_ for cryin' out loud and it shouldn't be a big deal, except that somehow, Zoro was making the cook stupider with his magnificent powers of stupid-infecting.

It was just _dinner_.

Zoro looked up at the sound of footsteps and noticing the chef, hastily slid something into his pocket, looking vaguely troubled as the blonde appeared in his line of sight. "Er, whaddya want?" he asked, the inquiry sounding more awkward than belligerent.

It was enough of a 180 that Sanji could blame it on the bastard's self-starvation. "Here." He thrust the plate forward, warm, wonderful smells wafting up into the air between them.

Zoro stared at it. "Um…"

"Take it asshole, or I'll force feed it to you through your ass, I swear to god."

Zoro almost asked if that was a promise, but thought better of it and reached out to take the offering. "Uh. 'Kay."

"Idiots who skip dinner don't deserve this," Sanji scoffed, though he stood around to watch Zoro take his first few bites anyway. "You better be fuckin' grateful, yarou."

The swordsman grunted halfheartedly in response and spooned the meat and rice into his mouth, making a vaguely appreciative sound in the back of his throat as the taste hit his tongue. He knew he married well the moment it happened, and he could only hope that the blonde would stop being a fuckin' _moron_ and see that too.

Because the both of them not having sex for as long as they had been was ridiculous. Really.

Among other things.

He gritted his teeth and kept eating.

"Oi, what's with that face, asshole? At least say thank you," the cook grunted on Zoro's frown, lighting a cigarette and glowering down at the swordsman, daring him to say whatever asshole thing he was probably going to say next.

"…thanks. 's good."

Sanji blinked at that, as if he hadn't really been expecting it. Well, he supposed he _hadn't _been. "Well…of course," he managed.

They stayed silent from there on out, Zoro scraping his plate clean while Sanji watched the two of them out on the deck together as evening drew on, headed towards night and closer and closer to the double-hammock Sanji had been sleeping in solo for many nights now.

Once finished, the chef reached for the empty plate, but Zoro brushed his hand away, stating, "forget it. I'll clean it myself later." The swordsman set the plate on the ground and stood, then stretching his arms. "Later."

Sanji frowned. "Well. Okay. Good. You should, asshole."

Silence.

And then, "You shouldn't um…skip meals," the blonde started, trying to make it a growl though the words came out as more of a sigh as he puffed cigarette smoke and looked down at the floor between them. "It just causes more trouble, ya know."

Zoro's brow furrowed. "Didn't feel like eatin' too much, earlier."

Sanji's eyes narrowed reflexively. "Why?"

"No reason," Zoro responded stubbornly, eyeing Sanji in his periphery.

He almost regretted the words as he said them then, if only for the slight look of hurt that flashed across the cook's eyes. There and gone again in a flash, but Zoro knew what he'd seen nonetheless. Made him feel like a complete heel.

Well, that was it then, wasn't it?

Nami's plans or whatever, wait until he comes to you, blah, blah, blah. Zoro had been okay with it for a while, but when it got to the point where he was feelin' _bad_ for hurting the blonde's feelings. Well. Maybe it was just time to give the whole stupid idea up.

Wasn't working very well anyway.

And he didn't like the way he felt when he stood there, indirectly insulting the other guy's biggest source of pride or whatever.

The swordsman sighed and let his shoulders fall a little bit.

It was all his own fault really, for believing that maybe…

Obviously it couldn't. Sanji didn't…and yeah.

Time to stop playing games. Time to make a choice.

And Zoro definitely knew he didn't like the look that had flashed across the stupid love-cook's face just now. More than anything.

"Okay, maybe there was a reason," he offered after a moment, as what would hopefully be a peace offering between them, an end to all these stupid situations they'd put each other through lately. "Bastard," he added, because it was exactly what he was thinking and couldn't help it, peace offering or not.

"What, watchin' your girlish figure now or something?" Sanji bit back, with more vehemence than he'd intended. He stopped at that, ran a hand through his hair. "Dammit. Forget it. I don't even care." He made to leave.

"Che. Yarou. Listen to me, would ya? I'm tryin' to give up, alright? It isn't easy! Cut me some goddamned slack, okay?" the swordsman demanded, reaching out and grasping the blonde's arm before he could up and leave things like that between them. "I'm talkin' to you here."

Sanji blinked. "Give up? And leggo, dumbass."

"Yes. And no. Asshole."

Sanji wrenched out of his grasp anyway. "What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

"Listen, goddammit! I said I give up! No more! You win." Zoro raised his left hand between them then, making a show of his ringless finger. "I. Give. Up. Okay?"

Sanji's eyes narrowed even more at the blatant display the other pirate was making, if that were even possible. "You're such a goddamned _asshole_, you know that?" he hissed.

Zoro blinked. "What?"

"You _never_ give up! And now you just. That is so typical."

Zoro had gone from angry and indignant to just…very confused in the span of a few seconds. "Buh?" he managed, inarticulate and with his left hand still hanging in the air between them.

"Che, forget it," the blonde snorted. "I _knew _you couldn't make that kinda commitment."

"I thought you'd be happy!" Zoro shot back with an incredulous snort, going back to good old instinctive arguments because really, those were the only things that worked with the idiot chef. Follow his gut.

"You gave up! I _knew_ you weren't serious in the first place!" Sanji accused, managing to sound hurt and triumphant at the same time. "You _never_ give up on anything else, but _this? _This is the _first_ thing and I _knew_ you wouldn't come through! Lasted longer than I thought it would, but I was still right in the end, wasn't I?"

"Make up your goddamned mind!" Zoro shouted back, because this didn't make sense and yelling seemed like the thing to do. "You _wanted_ me to give up, asshole! Remember!"

Sanji glared back. "And you _did_."

The swordsman clenched his teeth. "I can't believe I like you."

"Yeah? Well I can't believe I like you either, bastard! I can't believe it even _more _than you can't!"

"Yeah! Well… wait… what?" Zoro's paused.

Sanji, oblivious, continued to rant. "I mean, you're a complete moron and I don't understand you half the time and the rest of the time I don't _want_ to and all of the time I think I want to kill you! Do you know how _idiotic_ I feel about liking you back? Especially when I _know _I hate you? It's fuckin' confusing as hell so it can't _possibly_ be worse than how you feel about me and…"

He trailed off when he noticed Zoro's stricken expression.

"What!" he demanded belligerently. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that, asshole!"

The swordsman's face slowly spread into one of those idiotic grins the blonde absolutely _hated_.

They looked at each other for a little while.

Sanji was beginning to get a little creeped out at this point. "What is it! What are you so happy about! Quit it, dumbass!"

"You said it," Zoro chortled. Sanji began backing away when he could see Zoro's teeth in his smile.

"Said _what_!"

"That you _like_ me."

The chef's eyes bugged out. "When in the hell did I say that!"

Zoro stepped forward. "Just now."

Sanji backed up. "No I didn't."

Forward. "Yes you did."

Backward. "Selective hearing."

Forward. "Selective memory."

Backward. "I…"

Forward. "I know what I heard, love-cook."

Backward. "I… what I meant was…"

Forward. "What?"

Backward. "…I didn't mean it."

Forward "Oh I think you did."

Backward. "Did not. Oof."

Zoro chuckled and took the final step towards the other man, effectively cornering him against the railing he'd backed him into. "Did too," he sing-songed.

Sanji cursed. "You don't know what you're talkin' about. Now move. I need to get back to the galley."

"Nuh-uh. Not after you _finally_ admitted you _like_ me…" Zoro teased, leaning forward so his breath tickled right against Sanji's ear, arms boxing the other man in, effectively trapping him.

Sanji shuddered, put his hands on Zoro's chest to shove him off. "…do not," he muttered, looking away.

"_Do too…_" The swordsman pushed his cheek against the cook's, inhaled the smell from his hair. "Heh. You're shaking. That's cute."

"…am not, asshole." Unconsciously, he fisted Zoro's shirt. "Don't go around making shit like that up," he murmured against the other man's skin, closing his eyes. "I'll kick your ass."

"Mmm hmmm…"

"I will!"

Zoro chuckled, lips whispering over the blonde's jaw line. "Yeah? Go ahead and try. I'd wipe the floor with your skinny-ass with my eyes closed."

Sanji bristled, shoving the swordsman effectively away. "God, you're such an idiot!"

Bewildered, the other man blinked back. "What? What'd I do now!"

The cook crossed his arms and glowered at his crewmate, cheeks still a little pink. "I know you're stupid, but even _you_ should know when to just shut up and kiss me, dumbass."

Relieved, Zoro laughed out loud. "Yeah?"

Blushing rather obviously, Sanji smacked him in the shoulder. "You really know how to ruin a mood, you know that?" he muttered, more tired than angry. "Never mind…I'm going back to the galley. You're completely hopele…"

Smiling, Zoro kissed him mid-tirade.

Sanji's breath hitched, Zoro could feel it against his lips, the way everything in the other man seemed to pause, freeze in surprise. Taking advantage of the momentary incapacitation, the swordsman pushed forward, one large hand's fingers splayed out against the blonde's neck, the other claiming the crook of Sanji's hip, pulling forcibly towards him.

Sanji struggled instinctively though weakly, at least until they were two seconds in and he realized somewhere down the line that most of him was pushing forward anyway, that he was tucked right up against Zoro so that he fit into him like some sort of bizarre human puzzle piece and that it wasn't all that bad if he really thought about it, being held like this, being kissed by someone warm and familiar.

Sometimes you just know when you've lost.

Zoro felt the capitulation and smiling against Sanji's lips, partook of the spoils gladly. His kiss was slow and heavy, thorough with the realization that yeah, he had a whole lifetime to get to figure every part of the way the other man felt when he kissed him like this.

He was gonna take his own sweet time.

They pulled apart at Sanji's behest, the chef breathing heavily as he rested his forehead against Zoro's, eyes closed, tight fistfuls of Zoro's shirt bunched in his hands as the green-haired pirate held him up. .

"How was that?" the swordsman murmured, thumb brushing across the chef's cheek.

The blonde, slightly flushed, somehow managed to open his eyes, to work up another glare that didn't looks _too_ out of breath. "Yeah… well, don't think you can just do that whenever you want or anything," Sanji growled, more for show than as an actual threat and _knowing_ it. "T-there's an art to it, you know. A mood. _Timing._"

Zoro grinned. "Yeah, okay."

And kissed him again.

**END **


	6. Marriage Cycle

**Title:** Marriage Cycle  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Feedback:** (yes!) 100-150 word drabble cycle  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** ZoSan  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** Um… I took about… an hour and a half, give or take a few minutes on it?  
**Word Count: **N/A  
**Summary:** Sort-of a tagalong series of unrelated ficbits to go with the series that ended with "Meeting Halfway"- snippets of life after marriage.  
**Dedication:** Sherrymarie- dude, I feel like I've missed something too. It's like waking up in unfamiliar territory. O.o  
**A/N:** I decided that I suck for pretty much abandoning the fandom for as long as I have and so I'm trying to see if I can get back into the One Piece swing of things and not be a single-minded idiot like I have been. Whether I succeeded or not is um… up for debate. By the way. I am SUCH A LIAR. --;; Also, I figure I need to learn to be more concise, so thus me trying to keep these short. --;;  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

**1. Sweeping Changes**

"Asshole!"

"Bastard!"

"Dumbass!"

"Fucker!"

Crashes from the galley make Usopp and Chopper wince simultaneously, and with wide eyes, the little reindeer says, "I thought things were going to change now that they're really married."

Usopp smiles down indulgently at the younger crewmember and with his hand in the air, indicates for Chopper to wait.

"Stupi….mmmmph…"

Usopp lowers his hand and looks solemn. "There it is."

Chopper blinks. "I see."

It's a small change, but he supposes it's better than nothing.

"Nngh… ah!"

He winces.

Or maybe it's not.

**END **

**2. Competition**

He's gotten to know the scars on the body above him far too well in the past few days-- definitely_ too_ well for a technical newlywed-- but he grits his teeth and keeps going anyway, because Zoro's looking down at him with that too-smug, challenging stare of his as they move together.

Sanji won't let the bastard have an easy victory just like that.

They keep going and going until Nami screams at them to be quieter. After that, Zoro rolls off of him with a satisfied grunt and gropes around for something to clean up with.

Come morning, they'll probably have aches in places they don't even know they have.

Sanji breathes in relief and pillows his head on Zoro's shoulder.

He goes to sleep thinking that it's a stalemate again, at least for tonight.

He doesn't think tomorrow will be any different, but it's fun to try anyway.

**END **

**3. Alias **

Everyone is still calling him 'Roronoa Sanji.'

He hates it.

Zoro hates that he hates it, because the big idiot doesn't understand that it's just plain unfair.

When Sanji _says_ it's unfair in his most reasonable angry-voice, the swordsman merely grunts and growls and then says, almost embarrassed, "Well I'm not changing _my_ last name to 'Red Leg,' okay?"

Sanji gapes at him and for a moment is too stupefied to dignify that with an answer.

When he gets over that moment he kicks Zoro in the head.

**END **

**4. Mine **

Zoro is protective of the things he considers his own, few as those things are in the world.

Sanji is one of those few things now, though the blonde would protest if confronted with the fact out loud.

But the truth is the truth, and Zoro thinks that it's just how he is, how he will always be.

So he steps in front of the bullet like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Later, after Chopper has bandaged him up and Sanji has finished smoking a pack and a half out on the deck, the cook finds his big overprotective idiot and kicks him in the head, saying, "Next time, just tell me to duck, asshole."

**END **

**5. Mpreg? **

Luffy is fascinated by the institution of marriage as Usopp has explained it to him.

So when he goes up to Zoro and pulls out the front of the swordsman's haramaki, asking "Where are the babies growing?" after a particularly revealing conversation with the long-nosed liar, Zoro finds himself choking on his own spit and glaring at the canoneer, who is doing his level best to look innocent and nondescript in the background.

Sanji is both disgusted and amused at the idea, and thus doesn't do anything to dissuade Luffy's illusions as he pokes around in Zoro's personal space.

However, when Luffy trudges over to Sanji and pats his stomach inquisitively as well, both swordsman and cook share a look with one another before turning to face Usopp in eerie synchronization.

Usopp swallows and backs out of the room very, very slowly.

**END **

**6. Instinctive**

When Sanji asks one day in bed, why the hell Zoro thought being married was a good idea, Zoro simply grunts and says he follows his instincts.

Sanji snorts and says they're in trouble then, because Zoro's instincts are also the ones that told him North meant going _up._

Zoro can't argue with that, but after a moment, he grins and says, "Ended up exactly where I needed to be though, didn't I?"

Sanji shakes his head, though Zoro can tell that the blonde is mildly amused by everything, and tugging him closer, the swordsman assures him that if anything goes wrong, it'll probably be Sanji's fault entirely.

Sanji head-butts him and tells him he's going to take the idiot-marimo for all he's worth in divorce court.

That's always as far as they get whenever they talk about the future, but it leaves them both smiling before they fall asleep.

**END **

**7. Milestone**

Sanji is romantic by nature and Zoro is not, which is fine by Sanji most of the time, because he thinks that if the big idiot really ever tried something like that, the few brain cells he has left would explode inside his head after the first second of unfamiliar thinking-strain.

So on their anniversary, after Sanji's cooked all of the swordsman's favorite foods, the blonde is satisfied with the fact that Zoro offers to do the dishes afterwards and doesn't call him names for the rest of the day.

The chef sits at the table and smokes while Zoro cleans up, thinking that things are better this way in the long run. Because really, Zoro can't afford to lose what few brain cells he has left.

**END **

**8. Live Long and Prosper**

When Sanji had asked Zoro what he wanted for his birthday this year, he hadn't expected the swordsman to say "stop smoking."

There'd been an awkward silence between them after Sanji had finished gaping at the request.

The chef wasn't sure whether he'd felt touched by the sentiment or if he'd wanted to smack Zoro for believing that going from three packs a week to nothing in the span of a day was possible.

So he'd stammered and stalled, muttering, "I uh… well…"

But then, Zoro had smirked and interrupted, saying, "Can't do it, can ya? Shitty love-cook."

Sanji had snarled "I can too!" before he could think about it properly, a knee-jerk reaction to the swordsman's off-putting smugness.

Today, Sanji takes comfort in his lack of cigarettes by remembering the fact that _Zoro_ had been the sole recipient of his withdrawal-rage during the first few months of the quitting process.

**END **

**9. Not a Damsel**

His kidnappers laugh down at him, sneering, "So, you must be the wife, huh?" in his face. He glares at their tone and thinks that the moment he gets out of these ropes he's going to kick out their teeth.

That desire keeps him patient, keeps him from doing anything stupid—well, stupider than being kidnapped in the first place—because he knows if he bides his time…

There's a crash and a scream from outside then, and Zoro appears in the doorway a second later.

They make brief eye-contact, nodding almost imperceptibly to each other before swords cut the air and rope is unraveling.

Sanji stands then, hearing Zoro honoring his request by sheathing his weapons as he does.

The blonde allows himself a little half-smile and steps forward to face his stunned captors.

Zoro, appreciative, watches as every last man goes down so fast they can't even scream.

**END **

**10.** **Dreamscape**

Zoro had been feverish at the time, but Sanji remembers that as he sat at the swordsman's bedside scowling at the other man for being sick and injured and _sick_, the green-headed idiot had muttered something along the lines of a house in a nice country where someone called him 'master.' Sanji had bristled instinctively at that, at least, until he realized that the statement was telling him that Zoro wanted to maybe teach other people the art of santoryuu one day, in a dream dojo that resided someplace far in the happy future.

The blonde remembers vaguely wondering if he was in that dream somewhere too.

And then Zoro had rolled onto his side with a pain-filled grunt, brow furrowing and the words, "'m comin', asshole, quit your whinin'…" coming out of his mouth.

After that, Sanji simply sat back and waited for Zoro to wake up.

**END**


	7. Nakama Cycle

**Title:** Nakama Cycle  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Feedback:** (yes!) 100-150 word drabble cycle  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** ZoSan  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** 1:23 (minor edits)  
**Word Count: **N/A  
**Summary:** Companion Cycle to "Marriage Cycle"- Reactionary shots.  
**Dedication:** scuttlebuttinc- for keeping my interest in OP fic alive and well, despite you know, my not writing it for a long ass time. --;;  
**A/N:** I wrote this last night again, right after that Bleach fic because I was still nervous. I guess I get twitchy when I'm anxious and just try to write and write and write to get my mind off of it. I don't think I write particularly _well_ when I'm in that mode, but it just happens anyway. I don't actually know what I think of this except that maybe it can illuminate a little more, the really short stories I wrote for "Marriage Cycle". Or not, it remains to be seen, really. O.o Anyway, this is probably a bit confusing, but I tried to make each of these ten drabbles correspond in some way or another, to its matching number in the previous cycle. Obviously, I suck. --;;  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine or I would be rich! Filthy rich! Yeeah.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

**1. Vivi**

She's so thrilled when she hears the news that she immediately fires a letter to Nami, bubbling over with enthusiasm.

_Oh, how romantic! I can barely think! Is it much different now? I'm sure they never fight anymore. Sanji-san was always so sweet, after all. You have to reply and tell me everything that's changed; there are just too many possibilities! Oh, I can't think in my excitement! Congratulate them for me!_

_-Vivi_

After several months of waiting, a response in Nami's handwriting arrives at the palace. She feels her heart flutter in anticipation at the thought of the stories it must contain.

_Um… it really hasn't changed a lot. Except now they… do other things, I suppose. Heh. _

_Zoro says "thanks." Sanji says "mourn for me, Vivi-chan." _

_-Nami_

Despite her disappointment at the brevity of the missive, Vivi can't help but giggle a little as well.

How like them.

**END**

**2. Usopp**

He thinks that maybe the Honeymoon Suite was a bad idea now that they are where they are, because really, a single screen is not nearly enough.

He mutters and wraps his pillow around his head with both hands and thinks about throwing something at them.

Sanji cries out.

Zoro chuckles, grunts, and his breathing can be heard for miles.

A few minutes later there is blessed silence, and the canoneer hopes that maybe now he can get some sleep for real.

Several minutes later he hears scuffling and a few muffled curses.

Sanji cries out.

Usopp sighs and rolls on his side to face away from them and tells himself that maybe tomorrow it will be time to invest in putting up a real live _wall_.

**END**

**3. Zeff**

He reads about it in the papers- some story about how the infamous Straw Hat Pirates defeat so-and-so and cause so much belis worth of damage to the surrounding property.

It's not the focus of the story, to be sure, but the unmistakable line, "several buildings felled by Roronoa Sanji" is there, followed sometime later by, "the most fearsome pirate union on Grand Line," etc. etc.

He snorts and folds the paper and tosses it into the fire, pulling on his beard in disappointment.

"Damn ungrateful brat," he mutters, vowing to give Sanji a good kick to the head the next time he shows his sorry face around here.

"What the hell's wrong with 'Red Leg' huh?"

**END**

**4. Chopper**

Chopper sighs as the bullet makes a metallic clang in the dish after he manages to fish it out of Zoro. Zoro grunts his thanks and the little reindeer works on stitching and bandaging the wound as quickly as possible.

When he's done, he packs up his bag and scurries topside hastily, because there's more to a doctor's job than simply fixing up the patients. "Uh…Sanji?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of his voice, looking bored as he finishes off his umpteenth cigarette of the night.

Chopper politely pretends not to notice the steadily growing mound of ash at the chef's feet. "You can um… see him now."

"Che. Like I wanna see that idiotic, dumbass, death-wish stupid _bastard_," Sanji drawls, sounding surprisingly calm as he heads towards the door anyway.

Chopper waits until the blonde is gone before he smiles a little and brushes the ashes overboard.

**END**

**5. Luffy**

Nami explains that babies can't grow in either Sanji or Zoro, and sorely disappointed that he won't get to be a "favorite uncle-Luffy ever," Luffy wonders if Sanji and Zoro know they can't have babies too.

Then he thinks that if they did know, they'd be a thousand times more disappointed than _he_ is. The thought of his friends being sad makes the captain think even harder.

At the next port, Nami gapes when Luffy goes up to a lady with a stroller and pointing, asks if he can have it.

He gets slapped. The lady leaves.

Sighing in defeat, Nami takes him to a stall they'd passed earlier.

There, she haggles down the price for a blonde kitten that Luffy thinks kind of has Zoro's face.

Luffy is thrilled of course, and Nami supposes that if anything, Sanji and Zoro's reactions will be worth the money in the end.

**END**

**6. Ace**

Ace instinctively feels eyes glaring hard at him when he leans forward and smiles, offering Sanji a light from his fingertip.

He turns and finds Zoro looking straight at him from across the room, posture relaxed to the untrained eye, but very obviously poised to defend what is his.

Hadn't he been sleeping just now?

In either case, the message is crystal clear. Ace shrugs mentally and leans backward then, snapping his fingers to spark the end of the cigarette to life instead.

Zoro grunts in satisfaction and leans back against the wall, letting his eyes drift shut again.

Sanji notes the strange atmosphere in the room and from around his smoke asks, "What's going on?"

Ace grins and tips his hat. "Nothing."

Behind them, Zoro begins snoring.

**END**

**7. Robin**

At first she doesn't remember what day it is herself, but when she strolls into the kitchen with a book in hand and finds shrimp skewers, swordfish steaks, garlic beef roast, and lots of other foods that need to be cut up into lots of tiny pieces on your plate sitting on the table, she smiles and strolls right out again, before Sanji even really notices her presence.

She finds Zoro sharpening his swords on deck a few moments later and gently asks, "Ne swordsman-san, is today something special?"

Zoro looks up at her voice. On her question, he blinks, thinks about it, and a moment later, realization dawns. Much faster than she'd expected.

He grins. "Yeah, it is."

She turns around to face the water then, but not before she catches him moving to polish his ring.

**END**

**8. Johnny and Yosaku**

They call Sanji "aniki" just like everyone else, but now there's special reverence in their voices when they do it, because to them, the person who managed to win their Zoro-aniki's heart is someone particularly worthy of respect.

They also treat Zoro with a sort of super-reverence after finding out that he'd somehow, gotten Sanji to quit smoking. Their earliest memories of the blonde all involve cigarettes, after all.

Both chef and swordsman have attained the previously unattainable.

And so they sob and cling to one another, declaring that truly, this is the power of love.

Zoro, red-faced, looks around to make sure Sanji didn't manage to hear that or anything, and tells them that yeah, maybe they better not mention that kind of stuff in front of the chef.

Sanji gets violent when he's reminded that he used to smoke.

And that _other_ stuff will probably get Zoro killed.

**END**

**9. Nami**

Zoro is pacing the deck like a caged tiger, muttering all sorts of profanities.

She notes that most of them are directed at Sanji and not his abductors.

Everyone is very obviously keeping their distance from him except for her. She watches the proceedings with a mixture of worry and amusement.

After his seventieth round of back-and-forth, she looses her patience. Moving down the stairs so she's directly in Zoro's pacing radius, she forces him to stop when he finds her blocking his way.

He glares.

She ignores it. "Ne, Zoro…"

"What?"

"Do you think Sanji-san will be very grateful when you save him?"

Zoro blinks.

Then, very slowly, a small grin splits his face. "Che. Bastard better be."

She doesn't know if he's thinking of reunion-sex or simply having one up on the chef, but she supposes it's probably the same thing to the two of them anyway.

**END**

**10. ?**

He sighs.

They're yelling at one another again, and that either means sensei will show up early for practice in a foul mood and work them super hard, or he'll show up late and in a good mood that makes everyone wince because they know exactly what sensei did to get there.

The girls think it's cute.

He tells them it only gets in the way of training and that _he_ certainly won't waste time on those types of things when he becomes the world's greatest.

Whenever he says so, the girl who always kicks him in the head mutters that it's probably for the best because nobody would willingly put up with an idiot like him anyway. He doesn't get it. But he knows it pisses him off.

He complains to sensei about her all the time, but Zoro only laughs and tells him not to worry about it.

**END**


	8. Parenthood Cycle

**Title:** Parenthood Cycle  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Feedback:** (yes!) 100-200 word drabble cycle  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** ZoSan  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** 38 mins (no edits)  
**Word Count: **N/A  
**Summary:** Strange continuation of the whole domesticity/marriage arc- and now for something completely different. Parenthood.  
**Dedication:** Sherrymarie- I hope this is something _close_ to what you wanted on your wish-list.  
**A/N:** I just like doing these because they're quick, I suppose. I hope not so quick that they aren't enjoyable.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine or I would be rich! Filthy rich! Yeeah.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

**

* * *

**

**1. Siblings**

They find them beaten and bloody, the boy standing over the girl protectively anyway, glaring up at the pirates who are looming over him—ones that must be just like those that destroyed his home—and hoping that he can hold them back just for a second, just a moment, so that his sister can run away.

The one with the swords arches an eyebrow at him, but makes no move to attack.

The blonde scowls at his companion and smacks him, telling him to try and have a more pleasant face sometime this century because he's scaring the two of them something fierce.

The boy looks indignant because he's _not_ scared.

He's not.

Then the blonde turns to him and asks casually, "So… you two hungry?"

**END**

**2. The Way to a Person's Heart**

They're the only survivors. The town is smoking rubble, and his sister is crying because she's only four and that's all she can do right now, clinging to his arm and asking in-between sniffles, about mom and dad.

He sits quietly by while a blue-nosed talking reindeer patches him up. He doesn't even flinch when the disinfectant hits his cuts.

The green haired guy-- Zoro or something—grins at him and says something about his brave face. He scowls back.

The blonde appears in the room a moment later holding two plates of something that smells good. His voice is gentle when he asks them if they would like to eat the special meals he's cooked just for them.

He wants to say he isn't hungry, but his stomach growls just then, and the little girl at his side has gone too long without anything to eat.

"Okay."

He forgets his trepidation after one mouthful.

It's really good.

**END**

**3. Sensei**

They've been on this pirate ship for a while now, and he thinks they're the strangest pirates he's ever met. But his sister is particularly fond of Sanji—won't leave his side now-- and so he supposes it's time to make do. He still cries sometimes at night because he misses his home or he's had a nightmare, but he thinks all he can do is be thankful that the two of them managed to stay together.

He sees Zoro practicing with his katana on the deck one morning after he's woken up from a particularly bad nightmare, and stands mesmerized by the swordsman's movements in the early dawn.

Shaking, he steps forward and wiping his face clean of tears with the backs of his hands, shouts, "Teach me how!"

Zoro eyes him and then very reluctantly, nods.

He still has nightmares sometimes, but now, now he knows how to fight back.

**END**

**4. Stories **

Sanji is reading her a bedtime story, and he thinks that he's glad she looks happy, though he doesn't think she should forget mother and father so quickly.

She's two years younger than him, so maybe that's why it's easier, and he sits in his corner of the room and lets her have these moments with the cook because all he really wants in the world right now is to have her happy. It's all he has left.

Sanji notices him watching them from afar and beckons him over. He shakes his head, but then she sees him too and shouts, "Niisan! Come listen! It's all the fishes in the ocean!" She holds the book up, showing a picture of a giant purple-and-blue striped whale like it'll get him to come over that much faster.

She looks so happy.

He sighs and stands and marches over.

He discovers that it really is a good story, though both of them start to fall asleep in the middle of it anyway.

Sanji tucks them in and just as he's drifting off, he feels the pirate pat his head and wish the two of them sweet dreams.

**END**

**5. Family**

He thinks they're both shitty old men as he scrubs at the dishes from dinner and she wipes the table off.

They're both shitty old men and he's never going to forgive them if they made the two of them do _chores_ while they were off dying, so they'd better come back in one piece.

The sound of cannon fire from topside rattles them and he drops a plate. He catches it with his foot and flicks it back up into his hands and thinks that those two shitty old men better live up to the name of Roronoa because he hasn't carried it for the past six years just to have them drop off the face of the earth like sad, pathetic, shitty old men.

They stroll in together a little while later, looking like nothing happened at all.

Sanji compliments 'his sweetheart' for cleaning the table so well while Zoro ruffles his hair and says he'll help dry.

He thinks his adoptive parents are shitty, crazy old men.

**END**

**6. Extended Family**

When Luffy exclaims in a whisper-that-might-as-well-be-a-scream that "It's your dad's and your dad's anniversary tomorrow!" he sighs and thinks that that means the two of them will get mushy (they won't call each other names) and disgusting (they'll sit with their shoulders touching during dinner) and everyone else will find excuses to not-be-in-the-storage-room-for-a-few-hours. He isn't quite sure what that last part translates to, but when his three uncles proclaim that they're going to play games in Nami's room all evening, he supposes that, at least, is something to look forward to.

Games with Luffy, Usopp and Chopper always involve stories and strange dares and Nami screaming at them not to do things and Robin secretly making things worse by using her powers when no one is looking.

It's not too bad a way to spend the evening, and so he sits down next to his sister at the table and helps her color a card.

It's a picture of Sanji kicking Zoro's head and it reads, "Happy Anniversary Dads!" in her handwriting.

He draws the two of them standing in the background and watching while Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper play board games, Nami screams, and Robin reads (but not really).

**END**

**7. They Grow Up So Fast**

She pouts and says, "That's not fair! Dad, tell him that's not fair!"

Sanji, just having walked into the room, blinks and asks, "What's not fair, sweetheart?"

Father and daughter have just returned from a shopping excursion in the town they're currently in, and Zoro looks put-out but stubborn, which means that it was the same incident that plagued them _last_ time they were in port.

"He was obviously a dirty, no-good, weakling horn dog," Zoro grumps, crossing his arms. "'Sides. Anyone that can't beat me isn't good enough for you."

She sighs. "Dad, I was asking him _directions_. AND NO ONE CAN BEAT YOU."

Zoro grins. "Damn straight."

Sanji sighs. "So then, what's not fair?"

"He's going to be even _worse_ when it's the real thing!" she explains, looking at the swordsman accusatorily.

Sanji reaches out and pats her shoulder comfortingly. "The real things will have no reason to worry about _him_, sweetheart, I promise," he tells her.

Zoro blinks incredulously. "What the…"

"They'll have to worry about _me_."

"DAD!"

**END**

**8. Legacy**

He waits nervously for the final verdict, Sanji's brow furrowed as he examines to the very smallest detail, the food that's been prepared.

He worked hard on it, he's learned everything he possibly could have from his adoptive father, and swallowing, he feels sweat rolling down the back of his neck anyway.

Sanji nods after a moment at the presentation and he feels a little sigh of relief wrack his body.

But then the blonde brandishes a fork and very professionally, slices off a corner and puts it in his mouth.

He holds his breath.

Sanji chews, looking thoughtful, and after a few "hmmm," sounds, turns and smiles at him, patting him on the back.

"Good work."

He finds himself smiling back.

**END**

**9. Revenge**

"Are you sure it was them?"

His voice is shaking, but he manages to swallow and nod. "It was them."

His sister looks stricken, both because she can't remember and because her brother's word is absolute. These are the men who destroyed his home.

Sanji and Zoro are deceptively calm about it, but she knows when they are angry too, can see the twitch in one father's eye and the grimly set jaw of the other.

"So?" her father asks quietly, staring hard at her brother.

"I have to…"

"You have to what?" Zoro prods, indelicate as always.

He looks up, eyes dark with determination. "I have to go after them."

Sanji sighs.

Zoro grunts.

She feels her knees shaking.

After a moment of tense silence, Zoro simply says, "Alright then."

Sanji turns to leave. "I'll go tell Luffy."

Her brother blinks, because he doesn't understand. "W-what do you mean?"

Zoro grins. "We go together."

She lets out the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

Her brother does the same. He smiles weakly up at the swordsman. "Okay."

**END**

**10. Visit**

He doesn't know why they do it. There are children everywhere, endless noise, and a sort of hectic activity and liveliness that makes his head hurt a little just by being in proximity.

His sister is holding another man's hand but she turns and smiles at him just like she used to when she was small, saying, "Niisan, don't make such an unpleasant face. You'll scare the children!"

Her husband laughs at that, turning to his captain and grinning. "She's right, senchou," he chuckles, "Try a smile sometime this century, huh?"

He scowls back and thinks that the bastard is really no good for his sister, but she likes him and he supposes she could really kick the shit out of him if she wanted to, so it's not his place to do it for her.

They reach the door and move to ask one of the students if either of their instructors are in, but the rough shout of, "Dammit, asshole, didn't I tell you to put that away?" from the kitchen answers their question right then and there.

They step in without knocking, just in time to catch Sanji kicking Zoro in the head.

He hasn't seen them for a while, but he thinks that all the wonders of the Grand Line that he's experienced in the past few years are nothing compared to the chaos his fathers can produce in one room by themselves.

**END**


	9. Extended Family Cycle

**Title:** Extended Family Cycle  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Feedback:** (yes!) exactly 200 word (each) drabbles in a ten drabble cycle  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** ZoSan  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** DAYS  
**Word Count: **N/A (though technically it should be 2000).  
**Summary:** Companion Cycle to "Parenthood Cycle"- Everyone else.  
**Dedication:** sherrymarie- I hope this will in some way inspire you to finish your stories too. WHAT IS THIS THING CALLED SHAME? XD Also, for meallanmouse for all the great OP dedications I AM SO SPOILED.  
**A/N:** So, I have been prompted by Sherry because she wants to see Zeff meeting Zoro. Well. I tried, which means something right? But yeah, totally out of practice, because this cycle FAILS. I just can't bring myself to like it at all. O.o  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine or I would be rich! Filthy rich! Yeeah.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

**1. Vivi**

She's only ever thought of princesses as tragic fairytale damsels in far-off lands, the kind who always need to be saved by a prince.

They'd all been like that after all, in the stories her mother had told her.

She never imagined it would be like this, and when she meets Vivi for the first time, she thinks that this princess is just like another one of their friends and not at all like the helpless girls from the books her mother used to read to her.

She loves how smart and strong and kind Vivi is, and admires how much Igaram and the king both love her. Vivi tells her that those two have always been there for her, no matter what.

Before long, she decides that if this is how Vivi turned out without her mother being around all the time, then maybe it's okay.

Upon their exit from Arabasta, she goes up to Zoro and Sanji and tells them that she's decided.

She'd been worried about it a little bit before, but after meeting Vivi, all her fears have been assuaged.

She smiles and lets them know that she thinks it'll be okay to have two dads.

**2. Usopp**

Usopp is the one who'd given him his first slingshot.

And as such, Usopp is also the one responsible—if indirectly—for his first broken window and consequently, his first instance of having to save up his allowance for months to replace something he'd destroyed.

Usopp is also the one who, for a while, made him believe that there really were goldfish poops the size of continents and that if he or his sister ever ate too much sugar on any one day when Usopp was babysitting, they would both shake and bounce so hard from the sugary energy that they would both eventually explode in a shower of gumdrops and chocolate bars and red licorice (but inexplicably, not black).

Usopp is also the one who builds model ships with him and who still likes him even after he tried out that candy thing, only to throw up in the canoneer's hammock as a result.

So in return, he supposes he can't really resent his habit-of-lying uncle when one day, his father returns to the kitchen to find all of the pistachios eaten and Usopp quickly points to him, saying, "The kid ate them!"

Honestly, he doesn't even like pistachios.

**3. Zeff**

Zoro looks absolutely smug as they prepare to meet "grandpa" for the first time, and when he asks Sanji why, the blonde simply says, "The first time I brought the idiot back to meet your grandpa he gave your dad a hard time about never being able to give him grand-children."

He asks if proving grandpa wrong makes dad happy. "Do they hate each other?"

Sanji assures him that the two really respect each other a lot, and that while their behavior towards one another might seem strange at first, he and his sister would both be able to recognize it (eventually) as fondness and not anything like animosity.

The moment they enter the Baratie, Zoro gets kicked in the head by an old man with a beard.

"The hell are you doing here, ya damned failure? I thought I told you not to come back until you found some ovaries!"

Zoro clutches his head. "You shitty old bastard! Don't cuss in front of the kids!"

The man pauses. "Kids?"

He kicks Zoro across the restaurant before turning to Sanji. "Kids?"

The chef nods. "Kids, say hello to your grandpa." He gently pushes the children forward.

Grandpa smiles. "Hi kids."

**4. Chopper**

The first time he gets sick, Chopper sits at his bedside all day and night while his dads are banned from being in the room for prolonged periods of time.

Truth be told, he thinks he prefers Chopper there anyway, because the reindeer speaks gently and always says nice things like, "you're getting better really fast!"

His dads on the other hand, kind of frown and seem worried a lot and don't really speak much when they're there, like they're holding their breaths waiting for something important to happen.

Sure, they say things like, "hey there, kiddo, how're you feeling?" and "I brought you your favorite soup!" but there's always a tone in their voices that makes it sound like it hurts when they speak.

Chopper is different though. The doctor always sounds confident that everything is going to be okay.

Even when he's throwing up or it hurts to breathe or he can't see his sister for weeks because she might get sick as well.

His dads sound afraid. Like they're sick too.

But Chopper tells him everything's going to be fine, and there's something about the way the little reindeer says it that makes him really believe it.

**5. Luffy**

Uncle Luffy likes to throw her so high into the air that she doesn't come down for a whole minute.

Her dad isn't too happy about that, and he kicks Zoro in the head for letting Luffy do it.

She doesn't understand why he's mad, because for as long as she's known him, Uncle Luffy has never dropped her once before.

So as high as he'd thrown her, she'd known he would be there to catch her again.

She tries to explain that to Sanji, who's looking her over for booboos.

"He won't drop me, dad!" she says confidently, patting him on the shoulder reassuringly with one small hand.

"I know he won't drop you on _purpose_, sweetheart," he assures her, tweaking her nose gently.

"Then why fuss?" Zoro grunts, rubbing his head.

"Because," Sanji begins matter-of-factly, "one day he might throw her so high that by the time she comes back, he'll have forgotten he threw her at all."

She blinks.

Turning towards Uncle Luffy, she finds him clapping his feet together and happily celebrating the shiny piece of foil he just found in his pocket.

Vaguely horrified, Zoro mutters, "I never thought of _that_."

Honestly, she hadn't either.

**6. Ace**

She tells her dads that when she grows up, she's going to marry her Uncle Ace. She even holds up her finger, proudly displaying the engagement ring he gave her earlier today.

Sanji recognizes it as one of the twisty ties he uses to keep the bread fresh, and vaguely amused by the idea, tells her that he's proud of her for setting high standards. Unlike him.

Zoro bristles and tells her she can't marry a dead man because he'll be _dead_. Besides, someone who's only ten can't marry anyone. Especially not an old pervert like Ace, who _is not_ a higher standard than him.

Patting him on the shoulder, Sanji assures him that he'd been kidding. Except not.

"Che. Bastard doesn't even like girls anyway," Zoro pushes, sounding sore.

Upon hearing this new information, she immediately turns to Sanji. "Does that mean Uncle Ace really wants to marry niisan?"

"Of course not, sweetheart. Why would he agree to marry you otherwise?"

"It might be a scam," she starts. "Aunt Nami says people do this all the time for the insurance benefits."

Sanji laughs.

Zoro rolls onto his side, muttering, "I _told_ you that woman would be a bad influence."

**7. Robin**

It's on shore leave in a small town where he meets some local boys his age, and they get to talking.

When he tells them he's spent most his life on a pirate ship, they stare at him, disbelieving.

"Man, you ever even seen a woman, always being at sea like that?"

"Of course."

"Sure, butt-pirate-bait. I know why pirate ships keep young boys like you around," one kid taunts, snickering.

He's not sure he knows what the asshole means by that, but he doesn't like it.

"Look here," he starts, frowning.

The boy scoffs belligerently. "What?"

"I don't like whatever it is you're…"

"Ah, there you are!"

He turns at the sound of Robin's familiar voice, and she smiles back, but not in the way she normally does when she sees him.

Sauntering over, she reaches out and touches his cheek, winking. "I've been looking for you."

"Really?"

"Naa, don't play coy, cutie," she coos invitingly. "Let's go, ne?" Hooking their arms together, she pulls him away, pausing only to say, "Good night, gentlemen," to the gaping youths behind them.

The last thing he hears as they round the corner together is someone exclaiming, "Holy shit! She was hot!"

**8. Johnny and Yosaku**

When they present him with his first Wanted poster he feels like it's his coming of age.

They're apparently equally as moved, because they both burst into tears and hug each other when he takes it from them, crying, "It's the exact same as Zoro-aniki's first bounty!"

Awed, he clutches the worn piece of paper in-between his hands and turns to his father. "Is it really?"

The swordsman beams and ruffles his hair. "Yup!"

That's all it takes for Johnny and Yosaku's tears to amplify. "It's such a beautiful moment! Young-aniki is growing up!" they wail, clutching each other as snot rolls down their noses.

Still grinning, Zoro takes the Wanted poster from him and admires it more thoroughly. "It's a good picture," his father says, pushing the paper back towards the boy. "Best go give that to the stupid love-cook, he'll put it up on the wall."

"Sure, dad," he agrees, excusing himself to the galley.

"Oh, the wall! Young-aniki's poster is going on the wall next to Zoro-aniki and Sanji-aniki's pictures!"

As he leaves, he can't help but wonder how good those two really are at their jobs.

One thing's for sure, they're the weirdest pirate hunters ever.

**9. Nami**

Zoro thinks she's dying when he bursts into the room and sees the bloodstained cloth.

His eyes bug out and much to her horror, she watches her father turn to scream for Chopper, because something is making his baby girl bleed and he doesn't know what it is.

He doesn't see any apparent threat in the room.

Nami sighs and gets up to shove him outside, muttering that his daughter is fine and that the situation is under control.

At that moment, she has never been gladder for Nami.

"Sorry about that," the navigator murmurs. "There's nothing to be scared about, okay? His reaction was just stupid."

She offers a watery smile back. "Okay."

Zoro is pounding in worried outrage on the other side of the door. "Are you okay? What the hell is going _on _in there? Did Nami _bite _you or something?"

"This is where you learn how to ignore your dad," the older woman says, glaring at the door.

She laughs nervously at her aunt. "I've never really done that before."

Nami's expression turns wry and she winks. "Welcome to womanhood."

Later, a red-faced Chopper has to very carefully explain to Zoro what, exactly, is going on.

**10. ?**

When he says, "I love her," the little vein on sensei's forehead immediately pops out.

"Ah, I'll go get your swords, dad," her brother offers, once the revelation is made.

He glares after his best friend and thinks that the bastard is never any help.

"Niisan!"

"I was just kidding, sis. Sort of."

Zoro turns to her then, as if her voice has stirred him from a bad, dark, angry place. "Do you really like this idiot?" he asks, sounding disbelieving.

"Yes!" she assures her father. "And dad already knows too!"

Zoro turns back to his student and studies him intently. "That would explain the bruises, I suppose."

"Sensei… I…"

"Quiet."

His jaw snaps shut.

Zoro turns back to her, pointing at her intended. "Are you _sure _you like this idiot?"

"Yes!"

"Son, go get my swords."

"Sure, dad!"

"_DAD_!"

Zoro turns to his daughter and waves reassuringly. "I'll just beat him up this once, okay? 'Sides, it's not fair if that no-good love-cook got to and I don't."

She sighs. "Fine."

"Sweetie! That's not…"

"Don't worry, sweetie! He won't kill you!"

Zoro-sensei smiles at him. "Yeah, I won't _kill_ you."

But you'd be surprised what you can live through.

**END**


	10. Captain's Cycle

**Title:** Captain's Cycle  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Feedback:** (yes!) exactly 200 word (each) drabbles in a ten drabble cycle  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Pairing:** OMCxOMC (HORRORS?), OFCxOMC mentions (HORRORS!), ZoSan mentions  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** Coupla hours  
**Word Count: **N/A (Though should technically be 2000?)  
**Summary:** Companion Cycle to "Extended Family Cycle"- He's all grown up.  
**Dedication:** idiosyn- THE PICTURES ARE AMAZING. LOVE (Ahaha I'm sorry I couldn't give you anything as amazing back… --;;)  
**A/N:** Oh my goodness, all OCs. O.o I vowed to myself I would never, ever do this, but the ideas just came to me and with all this non-internet time, I have nothing else to do, you know? So yeah. But still…OCs. I don't know if I should like them or try and hide them under a rug or something. ;; I also realize belatedly that I should have done the sister's story first, but something about the brother just seemed like it needed some conflict. XD  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine or I would be rich! Filthy rich! Yeeah.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

**1. Full Circle**

She marvels at how history likes to repeat itself, all in the strangest, most unexpected ways.

Past and present and future all linking together somehow, the stories fading into each other with startling similarity.

This time, it's for her precious, silly niisan.

"Niisan," she begins. "You'd better go get that looked at." She manages to hold back a smile.

"It's fine," he grunts.

"You know doctor-san won't be happy if he discovers you were holding out on him," she says lightly, though he catches the hints in her tone anyway.

"Che. I'm not going anywhere near that know-it-all, I'm-so-much-better-than-you, look-at-my-degree_-and_-my-swishy-hair asshole if I don't have to. It's just a scratch."

"You're bleeding on the floor," she sniffs. "And if you're not gonna go see him on your own, I'm gonna tell on you."

He glares. "What're you, five again? Get to your mapmaking, woman."

She grins, wickedly. "Oi! Senchou's been…"

Hastily, he jumps forward and claps his hands over her mouth. "Goddammit! Fine. I'm going, I'm going! But I swear to god, if that dumbass says one word…just one word…"

She rolls her eyes. "What're you, five?"

"…_no_."

He scowls and sulks off towards the infirmary.

She laughs after him.

**2. Doctor**

"Don't look at me like that," he says, glowering at the other man.

"I was looking _through_ you," the ship's doctor responds easily, adjusting his glasses.

"Forget it, I'm leaving," he grumbles.

"You're bleeding, senchou," the physician notes. "I should look at that, given your propensity to not-die no matter how severe your injuries. This means of course, that you would just continue to bleed… all over the ship. No one wants to clean that up."

Clenching his teeth, the captain turns to go. "I hate you."

He manages not to fall when he discovers that he suddenly can't move his leg. The bastard quack—how'd he cross the room so damn fast?—is suddenly smiling by his ear. "Now senchou," he murmurs, "I for one, don't wish to incur the wrath of your navigator again, given how she was the last time you refused treatment."

"Undo it, bastard!" he growls, shifting his weight onto his immobile leg and aiming a kick with the other towards the asshole's head.

The doctor manages to block, but the force of the blow severely rocks the ship.

Outside, the first-mate of the Piecemeal Pirates sighs. "They at it again?"

His wife smiles. "Yeah."

**3. Sedated **

The quack has surprisingly gentle hands for someone who can immobilize every one of a man's major nerves in the time it takes to blink, and he supposes that even though the man is a complete dick, he's competent enough at his job that they can't get rid of the guy just because of personal differences (for now).

He would really love to knock the bastard on his arrogant ass one of these days, though.

"Ow, goddammit, that hurts!" he growls, feeling a sudden, sharp pressure against his ribs.

"I told you not to move," the physician says simply.

"I wasn't!"

"Thinking usually doesn't constitute movement in higher life forms, but given that you're not that evolutionarily advanced, senchou, you were twitching while you were imagining whatever it was you were imagining," the other man explains coolly.

"Fucker," the captain mutters. "OW!"

"I told you not to move."

"You're enjoying this aren't you, asshole? OW! The hell did you just jab me with?"

"Something to keep you from moving. And yes, maybe I am enjoying this a little bit."

"I'm gonna kick your ass, you goddamn…"

The doctor smiles as his captain suddenly falls unconscious. He gets back to work.

**4. Port **

They dock in a lively town and he has no choice but to give the men some vacation time because earlier, his sister had glared at him and demanded a few days off so she could be treated like a proper lady in the city by her husband.

And so he lets them all go and puts himself in charge of the shopping, because there isn't really a lot he wants to do in the city, to be honest.

"I need funds for medical supplies."

He turns at the sound of the quack's voice. "Yeah, okay. How much?"

"Not sure yet, senchou. But if you'd like to accompany me and keep a sharp eye on the receipts to make sure I'm not embezzling money, you're more than welcome."

He blanches at the thought and reaches into his jacket pocket instead. "Yeah. Right. Just take this'n gimme the change from whatever you buy, alright?"

"Yes sir," the blue-haired man responds, saluting facetiously as he catches the money pouch. "Don't spend the rest of our shopping money on whores and booze please?" he requests, voice low in his leader's ear as he brushes past him.

The captain scowls. "I don't buy_ whores_."

**5. Proposition **

He finishes the shopping early and decides to relax for a while and enjoy the sights.

Walking through the town's marketplace, he stops when he hears a familiar voice.

"Yes, I'm a doctor."

He finds himself in front of a stall selling herbs and finds none other than the quack there, talking to some burly man who's obviously drooling over the iceberg like he's some fancy treat in a store window or something.

"Well that's great! I'm a captain myself and my crew's been lookin' for a doctor! You got a job?"

He feels his eyes narrow.

"Yeah, he does."

Both of them turn at the sound of his voice.

The scene escalates from there and before long the mountain-man is unconscious from a vicious kick to the head.

The quack frowns at the scene they've caused and wordlessly moves to the other captain's side with some bandages.

He looks on in disbelief as _his_ doctor starts treating the man he'd just beat up. "The hell is wrong with you!"

The quack ignores him, and he can't help but feel something angry boiling inside of him as he watches his crewmate fuss over the enemy.

It really pisses him off.

**6. Fight**

"You're an absolute brute," the quack says later, when they're walking through the marketplace.

"And you're a damn traitor," he counters, without thinking. "The hell was that? Looked like you were on _his_ side."

"I could've handled Showboat-san without the theatrics."

"Yeah, you looked like you wanted to get rid of him _real_ fast. Knowing you, you were probably jumpin' at the chance to switch ships, eh?"

The quack's eyes narrow. "Either way, wouldn't it be my choice whether I wanted to leave or not?"

He snorts. "No!"

The physician glares. "No?"

He feels like he's nearing dangerous waters, but something stubborn about him pushes on anyway. "No!"

"I don't see how it's your place to decide that, senchou."

He glares. "What? So you _wanted_ to go with that giant idiot?"

"I'm beginning to think it might've been better than _this_ giant idiot."

He bristles. "Well fine then! It doesn't matter to _me_ either way."

"Obviously not."

"Well then go!"

"Perhaps I should."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

A burning response is on the tip of his tongue upon hearing the quack's easy capitulation, but he forces it back and storms off instead.

He decides he needs to get very, very drunk tonight.

**7. Dinner Date **

He's sulking at the bar thinking about how much he loathes that damn doctor when his cannoneer decides to join him, the other man ordering something fruity to drink before sitting down beside him.

"Oi," he starts. "Don't sit so damn close, will ya? People'll talk."

The other man gives a fluttering sigh. "Mou…senchou is mean," he murmurs, looking hurt.

"The hell do you want? I'm not in the mood right now."

"Ah, another fight with doctor-san, ne? How _cute_."

He scowls. "Don't you have a marine to fuck?"

The other man pouts. "Not tonight. It looks like we're the only ones not getting any, eh?"

The captain blinks. "Whaddya mean by that?"

"Well," the sharpshooter starts with an "I-know-something-you-don't-know" tone, "I saw doctor-san earlier, having dinner with a big, stupid good-looking man." Pause. "Ne…are you jealous?"

He feels his jaw clench.

"No. Why would I be?"

The other man looks vaguely disappointed. "Oh."

Sourly, he downs his shot. He should've figured that the quack would be fielding his offers.

Well good.

It isn't like the blue-haired man has ever tried to make friends with anyone on the crew anyway. They'd be better off without him.

He orders another drink.

**8. Leaving **

She bursts into his office crying, "Niisan, he's leaving!"

"That's his choice," he responds, trying to concentrate on the ship's expenses and nothing else.

"_Niisan,_" she says again, slamming her hands on the desk and making him lose count of the income bracket. "He's_ really _leaving."

"He never belonged here," he shoots back.

"You don't believe that."

"Sure I do."

"Niisan," she begs. "Isn't he family too? Aren't we all family?"

She sounds lost when she says that, hurt even. He sighs pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's not the same," he says, stubbornly. "Look… you and me? You and me, and yeah, your idiot husband, even? We're family. Always. But that bastard…he's…well, he's different. He doesn't count."

She looks away. "Dad and dad are family too, aren't they?"

He scowls. "That's not…"

"I just want you to be happy," she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper as she turns back to him with those giant, little sister eyes.

He's the one to look away this time.

"Niisan…"

He stands. "That bastard…he's leaving _now_?"

She nods.

He storms out of his office and vows to kick that dramatic fucker's ass for all the trouble he's put him through lately.

**9. Stay**

"Why did you bring me back?"

He crosses his arms and blinks, because he doesn't really know himself. "I dunno."

"Oh."

They stare at each other for a moment.

He turns away first. "You don't belong in the Horseshoe pirates anyway," he snorts. "Woulda looked like an idiot with that damn thing around your neck."

"Showboat-san was very nice," the physician replies simply, beginning to unpack his medical bag.

He scoffs. "Che. The hell kinda name is Showboat anyway?"

"I'm very touched that you decided that the names and dress codes of the ship I was supposed to leave on an hour ago were cause enough to force me back," the physician states flatly, obviously unimpressed.

"It's not like ya put up much of a fight when I came to get you, asshole. The hell do you want me to say?" he demands, temper beginning to flare.

"Nothing, senchou."

"Argh! This is why you piss me the hell off, you know that? Talk too much when I don't wanna hear it and don't say a word when I ask you a damn question."

The doctor catches his eyes. "My apologies."

"Fucker."

He gives up on talking and kisses the idiot.

**10. An Honest Man of Me **

"What's this?" the damn prissy quack asks.

"Open it," he responds, unable to look the other man in the eye.

He does.

"It's a ring."

The captain scowls. "Obviously. Asshole."

"And its purpose is?"

He fidgets nervously, too worked up to respond belligerently like usual. "Well, I was thinking… we should get married. Or something."

An eyebrow arches in response. "Why?"

"Dammit, you can just say no if you don't wanna, bastard. It isn't a big deal," he claims, reaching to snatch the box away.

"I didn't say no. I just asked why you wanted to get married," the physician responds, moving the box out of reach.

He turns red at that. "It's just… it's just important to me, okay?"

Pause.

"Your parents?"

"Yeah."

He wants to tell the doctor that it's not just because he wants for himself, what his dads have, but also because he thinks it would be nice maybe, to belong to someone and have that person belong to him right back.

He's never been good with words though, and repeats, "Yeah" again, like an idiot.

Silence.

And then, "Alright."

"What, really?"

"Yes, really."

"Um, wow. Okay… cool."

"Sweep me off my feet, senchou."

"Aw shaddup."

**END**


	11. New Nakama Cycle

**Title:** New Nakama Cycle  
**Author:** Celeste  
**Feedback:** (yes!) exactly 250 word (each) drabbles in a ten drabble cycle  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Character/Pairing/s: **Just. OCs everywhere. Okay? I'm sorry. Um, mentions of ZoSan.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Time:** Coupla hours  
**Word Count: **N/A (though technically it should be 2500 words?)  
**Summary:** Companion Cycle to "Captain's Cycle"- The Piecemeal Pirates make an odd family.  
**Dedication:** sherrymarie- I SHOULD WORK ON OUR COLLAB. I will after I finish my paper. --;;  
**A/N:** I don't know why this bit me in the ass like it did all of a sudden. --;; Think it has to do with the fact that I still have a paper to write. O.o Anyway. Just, a lot of OCs, some OC backstory, and I probably shouldn't count this as One Piece at all, but I'm going to anyway. So there.  
**Disclaimer:** One Piece is not mine. Um. I guess the people sort of are tho? O.o  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

**1. First Mate**

Best-friends growing up make for the best first mates, no doubt about it.

Now he just has to convince his Senchou that best-friends growing up make the best brother-in-laws too, though that's a bit tougher because as close as they are, the other man has always had the habit of destroying anyone who tries touching his sister. Takes after his fathers like that.

And while he's sure his captain would like nothing more than to dismantle him for touching said sister, all _he_ really learned at the Roronoa Sword and Culinary School was the culinary part.

And even there, he's not as good as either of the siblings at preparing a meal.

He supposes if it really comes to all that and his captain needs some sort of dual of honor or something before he feels better about letting his first mate have his sister, then the gunman could always let the idiot kick him in the head a few times and respond in like by shooting him superficially.

Well, that depends on how hard he gets kicked, really.

Unfortunately though, what's true for the brother is true for the sister too, and his wife has always had the habit of destroying anyone who even thought about hurting her brother.

Shooting Senchou? There'd be no faster way to a divorce, really.

He wonders if they understand the conundrum they've put him in.

He supposes though, that as long as it's the two of them, he'll find a way to deal.

**2. Doctor**

_They'd_ found _him_, really. He'd had the dubious history of being son to a doctor who had failed the people of his homeland many years ago, when a great epidemic had hit the island.

His father, fearing more for his family than the plethora of patients he'd gotten at the time, had fled the city when it needed him most.

The plague had eventually passed, but the name of his clan was left in shambles.

His father hung himself not long thereafter, not out of any sense of regret of course, but probably in the hopes that his act of self-sacrifice would allow his son to live a life apart from the crimes of his father.

He'd been allowed into the prestigious medical academy in the city after that. He'd worked doubly hard and come out at the top of his class, determined to prove that he in fact, was nothing at all like his dad.

Upon graduating however, he discovered that he was a doctor without any patients.

It seemed that his family's reputation preceded him.

One day, the Piecemeal Pirates landed at port with a very sick young lady and not a lot of money. He watched the townspeople turn them away one after another, refusing to deal with 'filthy' pirates on any level.

Even though they'd asked so nicely.

The day they found him, he had his very first patient.

From then on, he's been doomed to have the same patients over and over and over again.

**3. Cannoneer**

The first time he touched a cannon he won a marksmanship contest.

Everyone watching was amazed, but he hadn't been very impressed.

Knowing physics meant knowing how the universe worked, and thus it wasn't very hard to get Object A from Point 1 to Destination 2 knowing Velocity X.

What did matter about that chance encounter was that it had been much more entertaining than sitting in a lab all day wearing boring white coats and unattractive glasses that gave him raccoon eyes.

When he told the stuffy old scientists he worked with that he was leaving, they'd begged him to stay, said that going off to do something dangerous like "adventuring" would surely destroy one of the most gifted minds they'd seen in years. His was a talent that came along once in a generation, and it was his duty to use it for scientific advancement.

He told them he was going to sea.

He'd stopped at the city's busiest port and waited around after that, deciding that after years of being cooped up with ugly old men, he was going to find a lovely crew and settle right in.

When he saw them he counted a pretty navigator, a brutish, but handsome enough captain, a man with an attractive smile, and a beautiful doctor.

That decided, he'd gone up to Senchou and shook his hand, introducing himself as "Your Cannoneer."

When Senchou said, "Um…no," in response, he'd laughed at the silly man and moved to unpack his things.

**4. Former Mercenary (We Don't Know What He Does Really)**

He's not sure what his job on this boat is. Initially, he'd been hired to take out the captain and the navigator of the Piecemeal Pirates (for a hefty sum at that) by some fat bastard who had it out for 'em ever since they'd tussled with him and took an eye on their way out.

It'd just been another job for him at first, least, until he'd realized that the navigator was a girl.

He might've been hired muscle, but he had a code to follow. He didn't tussle with ladies (less they wanted him to), and he definitely didn't go after nobody's sweet little sister (even if she weren't all that sweet in reality).

Still, he ain't quite sure why he's _here_ of all places. Maybe it's on account of Senchou beatin' him in a fight (he ain't ever lost before). Maybe he's waitin' to see if he can get strong enough to even the score by beatin' the shit out of that three-swords weildin' cheap-ass who kicks like a mule. He doesn't know.

What he does know is that his former patron has got some powerful assassins on his tail now too, for not completin' the job. And not completin' a job pretty much constitutes that he ain't ever gonna get another job like that again.

So maybe he's here 'cuz he don't got any other options.

Or maybe it's the soup.

The young Missus makes a damn fine soup.

He supposes it's a toss up, really.

**5. Musician**

He knows every nuance of music theory, can compose a technically flawless piece in the time it takes Senchou to act violently towards someone on board.

But despite all that, his mentor told him one day, that he would never be a great musician as he was now.

His music had no heart.

He hadn't been sure what that meant exactly, had asked his sensei to please teach him how to add the missing heart to his compositions.

Sensei had promptly kicked him out, the old man's only words being, "find something that moves you, child."

Thus, by his brilliant deductions regarding that statement, he'd decided on a ship.

Which was used for moving people all the time.

He'd spoken to the first mate of the Piecemeal Pirates and the man had enthusiastically invited him aboard, stating that the crew desperately needed some merrymaking. He assured the newcomer that his word was as good as the captain's, given that they'd been best-friends since youth.

When he was introduced to Senchou afterwards, the first mate got kicked in the head a lot for his presumptions. The cannoneer and the doctor had smiled however, welcoming him warmly and causing Senchou to sputter incredulously at their completely ignoring his refusals.

He remembers wondering at the time, whether this was really the place that would give his music heart.

Now, as the lot of them sit around in the galley and sing drunken, horrible songs, he thinks he's beginning to understand what sensei meant.

**6. (Student) Cook**

She knows they hadn't needed her, not really. Senchou and his sister are far better than she is.

They'd passed as he'd shouted at her, as he'd told her that mere love of cooking was not enough to make a talented chef. She'd been crying as he'd told her to leave, to go and find a husband who would have to endure her cooking for lack of better options.

She thinks she remembers seeing them pause, the both of them, when they'd heard the words "love is not enough."

Senchou peered into the back alley of the kitchen she was working at then, asking, "What'd she do wrong?"

"Cooked a roast too long. Completely ruined!" the head chef had cried, throwing his hands in the air. "Now I've got to throw it out and start from scratch!"

Senchou had grit his teeth when he'd heard that, rolled up his sleeves and said, "Lemme fix it," in such a way that her boss had no other option than to comply.

She remembers watching him work, watching him add a little of this and a little of that, putting so much love into it that after the patrons had eaten his creation, they'd insisted on having the menu changed permanently.

She'd chased after them as they'd left, tears in her eyes.

"Take me with you!"

They'd paused again, and she remembers worrying that they wouldn't let her.

His response had been a sigh and a soft, "Well hurry the hell up then."

**7. Carpenter**

She's necessary. She's important. Hell, they'd _recruited_ her.

Which is why she doesn't understand the reason that no good can't-even-do-his-job-right mercenary is hanging around, since he most definitely can't be associated with any of those useful type words.

It's times like these when she wishes she had some sort of offensive Logia power, just so she could crush his stupid head with it.

He's the first person she's met in history who's made her wish her Devil's Fruit ability wasn't being able to see through solid objects, as helpful as it is in her line of work.

Rather, he makes her wish it was the _head crushing_ power.

When she'd introduced herself as a master carpenter, he'd snorted at her, crossing his arms and muttering, "Ain't ever heard of no women carpenters before," before heading off for a beer and a nap.

Needless to say, they hadn't gotten off to a very good start.

Growing up with seven brothers, it's not like she hasn't heard that particular load of crap before, but coming from some arrogant asshole whose only ambition in life is collecting progressively bigger and more phallic looking weapons makes it just that much more intolerable.

He's such a pig, really.

But, she supposes, she's working as hard as she can to get him to change his idiotic misogynist ways. She's making progress.

Thus far, she's the only woman in history who's hit him and managed to piss him off enough to get him to hit her _back._

**8. Ex-Marine (Don't Know What He Does Either)**

He's pretty sure that he's here by sheer force of will alone.

He supposes it's like Senchou always says: "That fruity bastard always gets what he wants."

It had been a whirlwind from the first moment they'd laid eyes on each other, a marine coming to the rescue of a pretty guy who was being harassed by horny drunks.

From there he was promptly called handsome before being thrown on his back and thoroughly ruined for women for the rest of his life.

After that it had been running into each other (or trying to) when he was off duty, taking every chance they got when he didn't have his own captain to answer to as second-in-command to the largest marine battalion on Grand Line.

It got to the point where his fleet was constantly trailing after the Piecemeal Pirates, he too in love to notice the charges being drawn up against him.

He would blame the loss of his career on his lover if he felt that he was missing out on anything, but he'd been nothing but duty, honor, work, work, work all his life before that one wild night, and though there are things he misses about the marines, he thinks that out here, on this ocean with this man, he's figuring out something called living for the very first time.

And the rest of the crew doesn't mind his being here, so long as the sex isn't too loud and he keeps his fruity bastard happy.

**9. Navigator**

She's absolutely thrilled at how their little family has grown over all this time.

She thinks it's great that their carpenter and their hired-hand are broadening each other's horizons, even if it leads to squabbling sometimes, even if they claim to hate each other when she knows they don't, not really. And she thinks it's so cute that their most recent addition—Marine-san-- and their cannoneer can be happy and together all the time now, after being forced apart so often.

She loves that their novice-cook looks up to both her and her niisan so much, that the young lady wants nothing more than to feed hungry people like her father did, like he still tries to do.

And she enjoys doctor-niisan's company very much. He's smart and soft-spoken and kind, a good husband to her brother.

Musician-san sings wonderfully, and she likes to hear his voice when she's in her room working on her maps, because it's a pleasant accompaniment to the scratch of her pencils and her rulers on the paper.

Her husband is, as always, full of good humor and enthusiasm as he goes about his duties on board, and her niisan is very skillful at keeping the whole crew functioning as a unit.

She touches her stomach and thinks that this will be a wonderful pirate family, just like the one she'd been brought into many years before.

She thinks her baby will be very lucky to have all these people in his or her life.

**10. Captain**

He's somehow got to run this ship while keeping his carpenter and his sort-of hired muscle from killing each other, between walking in on the cannoneer and his boyfriend trying new positions in the bathroom. On top of that, he's got to convince his sister that causing lots of property damage on board is a bad idea as the combination of morning sickness and hormones begins to inundate what _used_ to be a pretty rational mind.

He's got a best-friend who's so excited about impending fatherhood that he deserves to be _punched in the face_ lots for it and the cook-who's-still-learning calls him to the galley every five minutes to see if _this_ recipe meets Senchou-sama's approval.

The musician is angsty because he feels uninspired and strangely enough, that's caused the carpenter and the hired-muscle to come to a short-term truce as they plot ways to kill the bastard for his constant whining.

Through all that he's got to fight off marines who want his bounty, other pirates who want his head, and a bastard husband who wants to take his sanity as a trophy.

Well, he may be losing that last battle. But he won't admit it, goddammit.

And to top it all off, when they're all having supper together come evening, the bastards have the gall to look at him and ask: "Why're _you_ so grumpy, Senchou?" as he bangs his head repeatedly on the table and thinks his ultimate ambition should've involved becoming the world's strongest stay-at-home-son.

**END **


	12. Smells Like

**Title:** Smells Like…  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ZoroxSanji  
**Word Count:** 909  
**Warning/s: **Sex, language, ooc, etc., but no spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary: **drabble in the "Courtship Rituals" universe- Sanji misses the honeymoon. Zoro doesn't know it ended.  
**Dedication:** requested by tsukishine. Also, for Sherry, because I SUCK.  
**A/N: **Theme requested was "_Morning Breath_." A random little additional ficlet to the universe.

* * *

He hadn't been expecting _romance_ exactly, when he'd agreed to stay married to the stupid bastard, but to be fair, he hadn't really expected it to get even _less_ romantic than it already was as time went on.

Though Zoro probably didn't have a romantic bone in his body on one hand, and on the other, the honeymoon was officially over now, he supposed. As such, the plummeting levels of romance could only be expected.

Still, it didn't have to be, well… _disgusting_.

Breath tainted with what was probably the cheapest, most disgusting alcohol known to man greeted him when chapped lips began pressing against his neck this morning, and he squirmed and wrinkled his nose and beat a fist half-heartedly against the iron-hard chest underneath him when it woke him up. "You stink," he muttered, and tried to avert his nose from Zoro's general direction.

"'m horny," Zoro responded, and tightened his arms around the blond's slender waist.

"You _stink_," Sanji reiterated and writhed until he was in position to elbow Zoro's chin, thus shoving the other pirate's mouth away from where it was sucking on his neck.

"Then turn around so you don't gotta smell me," Zoro grunted. "Not like I gotta look you in the face for this stuff or anything."

Charming. Utterly charming. "You're disgusting _and_ you stink," the chef ground out, and braced a leg on Zoro's thigh to give him enough leverage to get out of the perilously balanced double-hammock by kicking, if need be.

But Zoro moved surprisingly fast for all his horny sluggishness, shifting his leg so it clamped over Sanji's and pushed the chef's foot down into the soft underside of their bed, where he'd get no purchase to land any such blow. "Through good times'n bad, right?" Zoro reminded the blond before grabbing Sanji's hand roughly with one of his own and rubbing the finger where the ring sat, ever a faithful reminder to the cook of the prison he'd foolishly signed himself away to.

"It's sickness and health, moron," Sanji bit out, and Zoro promptly ignored him by climbing on top of him.

"We didn't do it last night," Zoro reminded the cook, like that was some grounds for sickness or something.

"We don't have to do it every night!" was what the blond wanted to say, but as he did Zoro pressed their hips together and all that really came out was "We don't have to… nnnnnggh!"

"You _stink_," he murmured when he found his breath again, though the words were admittedly quieter this time. "I hate you."

"God fucking _dammit_," Zoro hissed, and ground their hips together just a little more until he got fed up with his cocktease of a husband, who was writhing and pushing back against him like he wanted it but was still stubbornly saying those stupid damned words. The solution then, was very obviously to flip Sanji over, and the resulting curses were happily muffled by their pillows.

It made them easier to ignore, to be sure, and while Zoro set about getting his hands under those pajama pants and onto that skinny little ass, Sanji groaned to himself and muttered one last rejoinder before admitting defeat for the time being. "You better not fuck me through the hammock again, asshole," he growled, because the last time that had happened falling through had hurt like a _bitch_.

"Blah, blah, blah," Zoro grunted, and pushed two fingers in.

Sanji didn't say anything that could be constituted as a word after that, though he made a mental note to complain to Zoro about the idiotic logic behind turning him over so he wouldn't have to smell the big moron and then promptly pushing his face into the pillow that smelled _just like him_.

When they finished, pretty much _everything_ in the bed stunk like Zoro, and Sanji—sticky and wet and groaning—felt like he would never, _ever_ be clean again.

"I hate you," he grunted, and eventually gave up trying to smack Zoro's hands away from where they were absently stroking the sensitive insides of his thighs.

Zoro smirked and licked Sanji's ring finger. "Stuck with me," he grunted, sounding immensely self-satisfied at the fact. His hands kneaded Sanji's thighs again then, and his fingers brushed against the sticky mess that lay between them. He grinned. "Got me all over you, you perverted love-cook."

Which was true enough, Sanji supposed-- every inch of him smelled of Zoro.

The solution then, was obviously to kick the fucker in the head.

"Don't remind me," he ground out, and promptly got up out of bed, putting his pajamas back onto himself properly. He padded off to take a shower once he was semi-decent again, and planned to scrub for a very, very, very long time.

Zoro laughed and watched him go even as he rubbed his head— the swordsman climbing out of the hammock himself a second or two later.

He headed towards the shower as well then, and figured the both of them should be about ready for a second go now. They were young after all, and as far as he was concerned, the honeymoon was nowhere near over yet.

Besides, it wouldn't do if he let Sanji wash _all _the Zoro-smell off of him.

The swordsman grinned to himself at the thought and up until that moment, never would have figured himself to really be such a romantic at heart.

Go figure.

**END**


	13. Date

**Title:** Date  
**Universe: **One Piece  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ZoroxSanji  
**Word Count:** 2,105  
**Warning/s: ** No spoilers I can imagine. Just fluff and oocness. XD  
**Summary: **Fic set in the "Courtship Rituals" universe- A night out together.  
**Dedication:** Sherry- I STILL SUCK. I'M SORRY I'M WORKING ON IT I SWEAR.  
**A/N: **So I started writing this like, ages and ages ago but for some reason was never able to finish it. I guess I finished it today, though you can very clearly see the demarcation of where the first half is and where the second half is because I think I diverged from the original purpose of this story (if I ever had one) when I set about finishing it. OH WELL, such is how these things happen sometimes, I guess. Damn my bad memory. Anyway, it's just silliness so I don't think it really matters either way.

* * *

Sanji sighed to himself for the umpteenth time as the prospect of a semi-normal outing promptly flew out the window, presumably scared off by the mixture of deadly and awkward auras swirling around the restaurant now—the epicenter of which seemed centered around their table. 

Zoro scowled (he was trying to smile) and picked at his collar again, which earned him a sharp look from the blond seated across from him. He twitched and wondered if he could figure out how to unknot his stupid froofy girly-man's necktie and loop it around the love-cook's own throat—maybe choke the bastard a little.

A suit. Zoro was wearing a suit. _Roronoa Zoro was wearing a suit._

It was painfully, painfully awkward. And difficult to scratch his crotch because everything was so, well, well-fitted. Though he supposed if he tried any sort of thing right now, here in this fancy-smanshy restaurant the aho-cook had picked, a sharp kick _to_ the crotch was what he'd actually receive.

Except suddenly Sanji wasn't watching him anymore—hallelujah— because he was too busy looking tragically morose in the fancy-smanshy candlelight. Zoro took advantage of that opening, hand slipping faster than lightning down towards the waistline of his pants and reaching for…

"I'll kill you," Sanji sighed dramatically, and still managed to look as tragically morose as he had a second ago while he threatened the life of one of the world's most skilled swordsmen.

Zoro twitched and averted his hand, moved it to pat down some of the wrinkles on his slacks in one smooth, almost natural looking movement instead. "Er," he said, and then, on Sanji's sideways look, let his mouth snap shut.

One year of this and he was kind of beginning to figure this shit out all for himself.

When Zoro didn't say anything Sanji sighed again, and glanced over to the side, where a young couple—in which there was a young, beautiful lady—sat and chatted and flirted with one another with their eyes. The blond sighed. Again.

Zoro twitched some more and made an effort to pay attention to whatever the fuck it was his menu said, though he couldn't really be sure because it all seemed to be in French.

After a while he grunted and gave up, leaning back against his chair and looking at Sanji expectantly. "Oi… I don't know what this shit is," he declared. "Just order me something with meat."

"Fine," Sanji replied, and sighed _again._

Zoro almost sighed in return frustration, but caught himself in time because even if he was married to the bastard like _hell_ he was going to turn into him.

"Tch. Would you cut out the goddamned sighing, stupid love-cook?" Zoro grunted instead, and looked annoyed. "The way you're going on people are gonna think I beat you or something."

Sanji sputtered. "Like hell!" he near-shouted, and almost choked on his own spit at the very thought of something so absurd.

Zoro nodded, and figured for once, they were in complete agreement. "Right. I'm not a wife beater." He fidgeted with his tie.

"I'M NOT YOUR WIFE." Sigh. "Stop that."

The swordsman sensed danger, and let his hand drop. "Er… spousal abuser?"

Sanji would have shouted another vehement denial at such a boneheaded concept, except he was too busy being distracted by the fact that Zoro knew how to use a word like "spousal" correctly in a sentence. The chef blinked. "The hell did you learn such a big word, dumbass?"

Zoro's eyes narrowed. "I already…"

Sanji looked at him skeptically.

Zoro turned his eyes sideways and crossed his arms. "Nami."

"I should have figured." Sanji sighed.

Zoro twitched but refrained from saying anything against the devil woman because that would just make things _so much worse _and was already sick enough of this shit.

To speed things along he ignored propriety for a second and waved over a waiter with an impatient movement of his arm and something that could be constituted as a belligerent stare.

Sanjie glared at him.

But then the waiter was there—admittedly shaking just a little bit—and taking Sanji's orders as steadily as he could while Zoro menaced at him a little more, for his own entertainment.

When he was finished, the server scurried away and Sanji kicked Zoro under the table.

"Ow. Fuck."

Sanji didn't say anything in lieu of sighing again, the cook figuring it might have actually been too much to ask when he thought they could go out alone together and have a semi-pleasant time. He mentally crossed off the possibility of hanging around town and doing stuff after they ate.

Best to take the big moron back to the ship before he spontaneously combusted in his suit or choked the life out of some poor passerby with his tie.

"This is stupid," Zoro announced after a minute, because it was better than the silence, and the chef's _sighing_ and the giggles of the flirting girl at the table nearby.

"I agree," Sanji said, and actually sounded vaguely disappointed.

Zoro, after a year of being married, was beginning to learn that he could be kicked in the balls with just words.

Also, for the record, he _hated_ suits.

He wisely stayed quiet until their food came though, and when the waiter—still shaking—managed to get him his dish without dropping anything on him in the process, Zoro frowned and realized that he had—steak.

If it was fucking steak, why couldn't they just write that on the goddamned menu?

Sanji ate some froofy looking pasta with mushrooms and the girl at the nearby table continued to giggle in the periphery.

"How is it?" Sanji asked after a moment, and sipped his wine without looking at Zoro.

Zoro grunted, but remembered to swallow what was in his mouth first instead of speaking around it. "'s okay," he murmured, and sipped wine himself—even though it was too damned frilly for his tastes. "Yours is better," he added offhandedly, and thought that if they'd just done this on the ship they could've not spent a fortune on food Sanji made better as well as forgone the dressing up and gotten straight to getting naked instead.

Sanji paused at Zoro's words, and his fork actually made a little clattering noise at the raised edge of his plate when he did. "Huh."

Zoro belatedly realized what he'd said. He turned a little red. "I just like home cooking better is all." Scowl. "Stop looking at me like that."

Sanji actually smiled, though not in an entirely nice way. An inexplicable way, more like.

Zoro got a little bit redder on instinct. "Oi. Cut that out."

Sanji stood then, and motioned their trembling waiter back over. "We're leaving," he announced.

Zoro blinked and actually kind of felt a little bit afraid. "Oi…" he said, and almost meant, _"I'm sorry"_ on reflex, for whatever it was he'd just done. It wasn't like they just had to leave in the middle of the meal or anything. He wasn't having a _terrible_ time.

But Sanji promptly asked for the check and takeout boxes for the rest of the meal without missing a beat. "Luffy can eat the leftovers," he explained, and Zoro was still kind of really lost.

It made the chef laugh a little, though not in that smug way that pissed Zoro the hell off most of the time. In an inexplicable way. Zoro wondered if it was the look on his face or the look on his face and the _suit._

Either way he was too damned confused to think properly, and when the other man didn't move to explain what the hell was going on, the swordsman swallowed his pride (or some of it at least) and said, "I'm sorry?"

Sanji ignored him, and once they were paid and boxed, tugged Zoro out of the restaurant.

"Don't ignore me, bastard!" Zoro said, and his head was beginning to hurt. He didn't understand what the hell was going on.

Sanji seemed perfectly amused at his confusion—though he supposed the bastard _would _be. "We're going back to the ship," was all the blond said, and Zoro wondered if he was drunk.

"Are you drunk? How much of that damned wine did you have, featherweight?" he questioned as they walked. He really hadn't seen Sanji like this well—ever.

Pause.

A horrible thought hit him.

"Are you dying?"

That got Sanji to stop, at least.

Though Zoro took the sudden pause as an affirmation. "Oh shit, you're dying." Pause. And then, "FUCKER tell people about that kind of shit, don't just… mmmph."

Sanji turned around and kissed him suddenly, hard on the mouth in the middle of the street (though it was admittedly empty at the moment), and Zoro was really convinced his husband was terminally ill or something. Either that or trying to get him to shut up before the swordsman had an aneurysm, but Zoro wasn't quite convinced Sanji would resort to something he loathed as much as PDA to do that.

When they pulled apart Sanji took one look at Zoro's face and burst out laughing. Zoro just tried to remember how to breathe.

And then the blnd rested his forehead against the swordsman's shoulder, and if he was in his right mind—which Zoro was convinced he wasn't—he would have realized that they were in a public place and the blond still had his arms wrapped around Zoro's waist.

At that, Zoro wondered if maybe _he_ was the one dying. "Uh…Sanji?"

"Zoro."

No "marimo," no "dumbass," no "bastard," no "idiot dumbass marimo bastard," even. Just a bag with two Styrofoam containers of meat and pasta in his fist and Sanji's arms around his waist and his mind trying to figure out which of the two of them exactly, was the one dying.

Because this was too damned weird to be normal and _someone _had to be dying.

"The hell?" Zoro asked, and tentatively let his free hand come up to cup the back of the chef's neck in case he was the one who was sick.

"Dumbass," Sanji murmured then, breath hitting the exposed skin of Zoro's throat and making him shiver a bit. But the moniker reassured him some, even as he felt stupid and awkward standing in the middle of the street wearing a _suit_ with Sanij's arms wrapped around him. "It's our anniversary," the chef murmured.

Well, he knew that. "I know that. You're acting weird. You're not dying, right?"

Sanji sighed, though it wasn't morose in the slightest this time. "Hey," he started, and his lips actually touched Zoro's neck when they moved. "Let's go back to the ship."

"Hmm," Zoro grunted, and wished the fucker would just answer that dying question already, before he went crazy.

"I'll make you dinner there," Sanji explained, and pulled himself away from the other man's body so they could keep walking.

"But…" Zoro held up the bag with the Styrofoam contains full of meat and pasta.

Sanji grinned. "Mine's better."

"You're acting weird."

Sanji tugged them back towards the dock. "It's our anniversary."

Zoro blinked, and didn't really see how that was neither here nor there. It was always _someone's_ anniversary, after all.

Sanji rolled his eyes and started speaking slowly, even though he knew Zoro hated that. "I'm actually in a good mood and want to have lots of sex with you tonight," he explained finally, because Zoro looked like he was about to explode from confusion. "Cherish it, idiot. It doesn't happen lots."

Zoro blinked. "What…really?"

Sanji didn't even bother to answer that—just kept walking.

Zoro jogged a bit to catch up. "You're not dying?"

"As far as I know."

"Oh." Something inside of the swordsman screamed for a more dramatic sort of reaction to the news given the level of relief he was feeling right now, but a bigger part of himself was refocusing on the things Sanji had just said.

Pause.

"Lots of sex?"

That, given all the cook's protests the times they _did_ have sex, seemed kind of really out of left field.

He wondered if it was the suit. "Is it the suit?"

Sanji thought about how he should answer that. "Yeah, it's definitely the suit. You should wear them more often." And then the Strawhat flag was in sight, and Sanji was climbing on board and heading straight for the galley without another backwards glance.

Zoro waited a moment on the pier and looked himself over.

He wondered, vaguely, if maybe he should learn how to knot a tie one of these days.

It didn't look _that_ hard.

**END**


	14. Worth Dying For

**Title:** Worth Dying For  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ZoroxSanji  
**Word Count:** 2,239  
**Warning/s: **Sex, language, ooc, etc., but no spoilers I can imagine.  
**Summary: **fic in the "Courtship Rituals" universe- It's not love.  
**Dedication:** Um… how about kyrakitty just because? Of course I don't know if you actually like this pairing but um. Sorry! ;;  
**A/N: **I dunno. I just wanted stupid fluff. And then it went the wrong way. And then came back around. And just ended up being stupid all around. I WILL WRITE SOMETHING SIMPLE AND CUDDLY ONE DAY. Maybe. THESE TWO MAKE IT DIFFICULT.

* * *

They're not in love. 

Sanji can't think of it as love anyway, not in the way he's always thought love should be like. Soft looks and doting smiles, the sweet curl of fingertips around one another and whispered vows of adoration, candlelight dinners for two and slow lovemaking all through the night.

The stuff people look for all their lives.

The stuff they die for.

Sanji doesn't think they're in love.

They can't be if _everything_ about the two of them together is in diametric opposition to what he imagines love should be like, after all.

Hard glares and mocking sneers, feet and fists striking one another, whispered threats of death and murder. Candlelight dinners for seven, quick, hard fucking in the back of the storage room between watch shifts late, late at night.

Everything that love isn't is what they have, and even with a ring on his finger and a brand new last name that isn't his own can't make Sanji think that he loves Zoro—indeed the slightest inkling of that sort of feeling between he and the shitty swordsman sends a shiver down his spine, and not in the pleasant way at all.

Fundamentally, he thinks that love shouldn't piss him off this damn much.

Zoro glares at him whenever he gets distracted by those kinds of thoughts, furrows that big caveman brow and squeezes those big caveman hands of his a little tighter. "Oi, pay attention, bastard," he hisses, and bites along Sanji's throat because the swordsman likes doing that, likes leaving a mark and gloating over it in the morning.

Possession, lust, desire maybe. Maybe Sanji can admit to feeling those. But love is something altogether different, he thinks. It's nothing at all like how it's supposed to be.

Maybe the two of them are incapable of it. Hell, Zoro probably hasn't even thought about it.

"I said pay attention," Zoro hisses again, and the way he's moving his hands means there'll be bruises in the shapes of fingers on either side of the chef's hips when he wakes up in the morning, sore and achy and with a sweating heap of sated husband snoring into his ear.

Not the stuff of love. He's one-hundred percent sure of that.

It makes him annoyed—why is he even thinking about this? Maybe because he'd had lots of dreams growing up, about how it would be for him one day, on that one day when he put a ring on someone else's finger and earned himself a lifetime of love. A lifetime of soft looks and doting smiles and candlelight dinners.

Funny, they hadn't even put the rings on one another.

He hates that he's unhappy only because it seems too bizarre for him to be wanting more in the first place.

Zoro in the meantime, doesn't understand what's wrong, only knows that something is. He's got strong animal instincts.

Sometimes strong human ones too—he's too proud to ask. Thinks that maybe riling the blond up will cheer him out of whatever funk's been pushing on him the last few months, that a good meal, a good fight and then a good fuck will fix it all. Nothing else in the world that can make a man so happy, after all.

But then Sanji sighs and lets himself be kissed, turns his head and bares his throat because he knows Zoro's going to bite down there anyway.

Like he's saying "_hurry up and get it over with then, asshole._"

Something's wrong. Zoro's animal instincts have always been strong.

Still too human though—he doesn't say anything on the matter. But he lets Sanji come first and cleans them up after, even remembers to make sure and turn a bit so he's not slumped all on top of the blond when he falls asleep.

Sanji sighs and smokes after sex like always. He wonders what's wrong with him that he'd actually want something from the idiot sleeping next to him-- especially something so utterly impossible.

Nami notices everything because she's smarter than everyone else.

"Talk to him," she tells Zoro, whose afternoon workout session has become more afternoon angry than workout.

Zoro grunts and pretends not to hear her.

"Talk to him," she tells Sanji, and he makes her frilly drinks and tells her he loves her. His eyebrow twitches when she mentions Zoro, but he doesn't respond with anything like an acknowledgement to her words.

She tells him fifty percent of marriages fail because of lack of communication, and he laughs like it's a joke. "Then it's amazing this one's gone on for as long as it has because fifty percent of the participants lack a brain, ne, Nami-swan?"

She wants to say it's a hundred in this case, but giving him another excuse to try and bow out of his vows (granted he _technically_ hadn't said anything at the ceremony, but that's not important) isn't on the agenda for today. She sips her frilly drink and wonders if Sanji knows about how love in the real world works at all.

Zoro's worry becomes palpable as the days pass, and the only way he knows how to communicate it is by training more, picking more fights, and then fucking harder.

Sanji limps afterwards sometimes, when he's bustling around in the kitchen during breakfast. When Nami asks he says he slept funny and that it's so sweet of his angel to care about him so.

Zoro lifts weights until he bleeds. Sanji only shows concern by keeping plenty of cold, citrus-based drinks on deck nearby. He nearly trips with the tray he's carrying them on when he sees blood dribbling down out of the corner of Zoro's mouth-- oozing from the cut inside where the swordsman had gnashed his teeth against his cheek under the strain of his training. Glaring, the blond shouts at the idiot that he's got to be doing something wrong if he's bleeding from just a couple of puny weights like that.

Zoro ignores him, though his eye twitches just a little bit.

Nami doesn't get how Sanji can do that and still not understand how love in the real world works at all.

Luffy laughs and thinks they're just super tense because they haven't had a really big adventure for sometime now. Nami would be inclined to believe him in part, except he always claps his feet together after that or picks his nose or forgets what he was saying and asks Nami for a tangerine.

In the meantime, Sanji wonders what love is like and hopes it's the kind of thing that, when it's genuine, wouldn't piss him off so damn much.

At the same time, Zoro knows something is wrong. All he does is clench his hands tighter and move his hips harder when they have sex because he's pretty sure all that means something even if he's not sure what, exactly, he's trying to say.

"Let's go find an adventure!" Luffy says one afternoon when Nami thinks she can't take it anymore, the captain stretching and winking and thinking he's being oh-so-smart.

"You can't just say that and expect something to happen," Nami chastises him, and continues to relax on deck and try to figure out a way for the two married idiots to realize that only people who love each other that much can hurt each other that much.

But fate loves Luffy. Adores him perhaps a little more than it should.

So when a delighted "Ohoho!" comes from the captain's special seat that very afternoon, Nami only has to sigh to know that there is a small battalion of Marine ships patrolling just at the edge of the horizon.

"An adventure!" Luffy declares, and flexes his arm happily.

"Maybe you should sit this one out, love-cook," Zoro tells the blond as they count the line of dots that signify the size of the oncoming fleet.

Sanji bristles. "Like hell."

Zoro scowls back. "Suit yourself."

They fight angry and a couple of ships go down, though Nami scolds them not to sink them _all_ because that would make it very hard for the poor, hapless Marines to get home.

From there they fight really angry (without sinking anymore ships) and Zoro gets distracted by watching Sanji be reckless.

Sanji watches Zoro take two shots in the chest because he's not paying attention.

Sanji's not paying attention either though, and when he gets hit in the ribs hard by some guy wielding a freaking cannonball on a chain, Zoro sees the blond as he's knocked overboard by the force and gets even angrier. He hefts himself up onto his feet again.

Marines who survived that fight will recall it in their nightmares for the rest of their careers—Roronoa Zoro and his demonic eyes.

Zoro jumps overboard the second he gets the chance and doesn't know where to look first.

He leaves a trail of blood in the water.

When he wakes up his chest hurts and his legs hurt and his arms hurt and he wonders vaguely, if he's dead. If he's dead, he figures he ought to get around to fixing that just as quick as possible, before Sanji goes off and gets the idea that just 'cuz Zoro's dead they aren't married anymore. "Death do us part" doesn't really mean anything to the swordsman, but he could just see the ero-cook trying to use it as an excuse.

But at the same time, heaven looks a lot like the floor of the ship, and he thinks that it shouldn't hurt as damn much. "Am I dead?"

"No," Sanji's voice responds, and it sounds more pissed than usual. "But you were close, you fucking dumbass."

Zoro grunts. "Then we're still married," he says, because it's the first thought he has. Absently, he thinks that Chopper must've given him something funny. He only says exactly what he's thinking out loud like that after Chopper gives him something funny.

Sanji actually smiles a bit at the statement, though Zoro can't see it because they're laid out right beside one another on the floor—blankets and thin padding there because there aren't enough beds. The cook wonders why he knows that if he were to move his right hand just a little bit more to the right, the backs of their palms would be touching.

He doesn't do it of course. "Yeah, we're still married," he acknowledges, and figures it's okay that he's admitting such a thing because Chopper gave them some of that funny stuff earlier. They aren't responsible for what they say right now.

"Good," Zoro grunts, and shifts his left arm a little bit more to the left. He blinks in surprise when their hands touch, but figures he doesn't have to move it since they're still married.

Sanji sighs at the contact and his eyes flutter a bit tiredly for the first time since he dragged his idiot's body up from under the water. "We had an adventure, huh?" he asks, and chuckles to himself a little bit.

"Adventure… tch. I was gonna kill you if you died," Zoro replies, just as randomly. "You aren't gettin' outta this so easy, stupid love-cook."

"Hmm," Sanji murmurs, and shifts his hand a little bit more to the right anyway. He can feel the small band of metal on Zoro's ring finger, warmed by the heat of the swordsman's body. "Go to sleep, idiot marimo."

"Mmm," Zoro echoes, and turns his head just a tad to the left. "I'm too horny to sleep."

To his surprise, Sanji lets out a single, sharp bark of laughter, and it hurts his broken ribs like hell. "Take care of yourself then, bastard," he croaks.

Zoro feels something like a smile tug at his own mouth when he hears that. "We really are still married."

"Shut up," Sanji says, and admits to himself that right now, he feels something like relief when he hears that annoying ass voice say those stupid ass things.

He supposes it counts for something—he can't say what, exactly.

They fall asleep side-by-side and with their hands just brushing just like that. Sanji's last thoughts as he finally lets himself relax-- after verifying that the dumbass could still open his eyes and talk and generally be his idiotic self— are all insistences to himself that relief doesn't technically mean love at all.

At least, it's not the love Sanji thinks of when he thinks of love in the traditional sense of the word-- the way that he used to think love should be like from hearing one too many romance stories living at the Baratie. There aren't any soft looks and doting smiles between he and Zoro, no sweet curl of fingertips around one another or whispered vows of adoration, no candlelight dinners for two or slow lovemaking all through the night.

The two of them will never have any of that stuff—the stuff some people spend their whole lives looking for.

That they're willing to die for.

Sanji knows that that kind of love is one-hundred percent the exact opposite of whatever it is he and Zoro have.

But maybe, when he thinks about it, the cook can admit that that's ultimately (probably) for the best.

Sanji doesn't really want to die just yet anyway.

Because if he does, who's going to take care of the big dumb idiot snoring away next to him?

**END**


	15. In a Name

**Title: **In a Name  
**

* * *

Topic: **Drabble in the "Courtship Rituals" universe**   
Rating: **PG**   
Pairing: **ZoSan, vaguely**   
Word Count: **496**   
Summary: **Sanji's day and it's various fluctuations.**   
Dedication: **Sherrymarie**   
A/N: **Done for the drabble request thread on my livejournal. I somehow feel that I am the lamest person _ever_ after writing this. ;; But at least that's one out of the way!

* * *

"Roronoa Sanji! It's Roronoa Sanji, men! Get him!"

On any other occasion, Sanji would have just run to avoid the hassle of having to juggle his carefully haggled groceries _and_ _simultaneously_ battle marines.

On any other occasion.

But today…

Gritting his teeth he let his cigarette stub fall to the floor and ground it out with the toe of his shoe.

That was just too much. When the goddamn _marines_…

The day hadn't started out ideally maybe, but at least it had started out _tolerably._ He'd gotten up and out of bed early to go to the market this morning, dragging Zoro along because if the bastard was going to just hop into bed with him even when they were on _shore leave_ then the idiot was going to work for it, goddammit, and they'd ended up meeting the sunrise in the port city's large open-air market to get supplies.

As much as Sanji hated to admit it, the stupid idiot was at least good for hauling stuff from the various venders back to the ship. Sanji hadn't even needed to hire out a cart or anything. So the day had started out okay, at least.

Halfway through the required shopping list (he hadn't even gotten his goddamn spices yet!), he'd come across a bunch of presumably off-duty marines lounging in the square.

Thinking nothing of it, he'd kept on walking, eyeing various stalls heaped to overflowing with fruits and vegetables.

He'd been contemplating buying some Honey Dew because they were in season, had smiled sexily, planning to politely charm the cute salesgirl into giving him a deal for the quantity he'd need. And maybe ask her to dinner afterwards to show his gratitude as a gentleman.

Then the cry had rung out.

_Roronoa Sanji_

Too incredulous to even properly excuse himself from his conversation with the salesgirl, he'd turned around immediately, glaring.

"_Roronoa Sanji?"_

The marines had their swords drawn, were fanning out around him as he stood there, bag of groceries in one hand. "Surrender now Roronoa, or be killed where you stand!" the leader called out, rather unimpressively.

Sanji's eyebrow ticked. _"Roronoa_!"

"Hands in the air!" the marines pressed, though on the chef's expression, several took instinctive steps backwards.

On any other occasion, Sanji would have just run to avoid the hassle of having to juggle his carefully haggled groceries and battle marines.

Any other day, by any other name, he would have just avoided all the trouble and run.

But… _Roronoa Sanji_.

_Roronoa Sanji. _

Unforgivable. Intolerable. How did they even _know_!

"Give yourself up! We'll give you to the count of three, Roronoa!"

Sanji carefully set down his groceries and raised a leg, feeling extremely malicious. He'd only need two.

Later, when Zoro met up with the cook after finishing his supply drop, Sanji kicked him in the head.

When Zoro asked him what the hell that was for, Sanji did it again.

It made the rest of the day tolerable again.   
**   
END **


	16. Hunger

**Title:** Hunger  
**Rating:** PG-15  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ZoroxSanji  
**Word Count:** 1,337  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine—just some OOCness and stupidity.  
**Summary: **ficlet in the "Courtship Rituals" universe- Zoro can't figure Sanji out.  
**Dedication:** seca- I'm working on that request of yours I swear. It's just…really, really difficult.  
**A/N: **Attempt at ZoSan schmoopyness take two. I will stop writing in this universe one day, I swear. When I get unlazy or something. Yeah.

* * *

Zoro was very certain that Sanji didn't make sense. At all. Ever. In a world that he was happy to keep relatively simple (Zoro liked the black-and-white dichotomies of strong and weak, win and loss, do or die), the chef was just as happy to throw completely off kilter, and part of learning how to survive in this strange not-one-but-two environment of marriage was proving to be—on occasion-- tricky business for the swordsman.

In short, he was discovering that he could be rather easily boggled.

Conscious attempts at being nice very often blew up in his face—Sanji would at best furrow his stupid eyebrow at the swordsman and demand what the hell was wrong. At the very worst he would get pissed off—_"I'm not gonna let you fuck me just because you force yourself to say something nice every once in a while, asshole."_—and Zoro was relegated to the floor for the night because the stupid love-cook didn't want to look at his face for a while.

On the other hand it was the random meaningless statement here or there that earned him a smile maybe, or a sly look through thick lashes when the blond lit up a cigarette and let it dance suggestively between his lips for a bit. Maybe a touch of a shoulder against his when whatever Zoro had done made Sanji particularly happy; perhaps even a cool drink and a towel for when he was taking a break from training.

Stupid, thoughtless things were the ones that counted most for the chef it seemed, and Zoro wished he knew (or understood) his own thoughts at those moments if only for the fact that he'd gain the ability to quell any rising fight between them rather quickly if he mastered that technique. The Sanji-doesn't-make-any-fucking-sense technique.

That unpredictability was probably one of the things that made the kind of situation he currently found himself in particularly difficult, he supposed—right now his spouse was in a bad mood, Sanji looking out over the water of the pier and glaring because he'd let his temper get irked by some random fishmonger's careless comment earlier, the old man laughing outright at the prospect of All Blue.

Zoro felt like he ought to say something (or something), but didn't really feel like it given that he didn't see why the idiot let people like that get under his skin the way they did in the first place. As far as the swordsman was concerned his dream was his dream and the only people he had to share it with were the ones he wanted to. The way Zoro saw it, people who looked down on your aspirations didn't have room to fit in your world in the first place, so why worry about what they thought at all?

Well, whatever. The crux of the matter was that Sanji was pissed and Zoro felt like he should say something, but when he felt like that and did say something he usually (somehow) made it worse. He supposed he could wait and see if one of those random flashes of brilliance came upon him later, or something.

So Sanji spent the afternoon smoking crabbily out on the pier and Zoro had the patience to last until around dinnertime before daring to go pay his sulking husband a visit. He was hungry, dammit. The aho-chef could sulk about his problems after he'd cooked up a decent meal.

That decided, the swordsman came up behind the angry blond and wrapped his arms around that too-skinny waist, rested his chin on a thin but sturdy enough shoulder. "You're still pissed," he grunted in a long-suffering sort of way, and let his eyes slide shut as he thought about what he'd like to eat once he could wrangle the blond away from his sulk fest.

"Leggo, asshole," Sanji growled when Zoro embraced him, and squirmed to get out of this husband's grasp. "Leave me alone."

Zoro scowled right back. "Too damned touchy," he diagnosed absently, and didn't let Sanji go at all. "Only stupid people get annoyed by other stupid people, you know."

An elbow to his gut only made him wince a little, and he responded by grunting and wrapping his arms around that tiny little waist tighter, leaning a little more weight on the asshole's wiry frame. His stomach rumbled a bit, and reminded them both that it was just about dinnertime. "Hey," he said absently, thoughtlessly, and brushed the tip of his nose against the blond's neck, "when we find it… make me one of everything, okay?"

Sanji blinked, even paused in trying to squirm out of Zoro's embrace at that very random statement. "What?"

"When we find All Blue," the swordsman clarified, still just thinking about food. "Make me one of everything. I wanna try 'em all."

"Try all of what?"

"The fish." Pause. "Maybe not the really weird ones," he admitted, and was making himself even hungrier then. "Make me one of everything else. I'll eat it."

Sanji snorted, but some of the tenseness worked its way out of his shoulders right then, and Zoro supposed the thought of cooking always distracted the blond well enough. "Only you would want to make me cook that much after I found it," the chef snorted, but didn't sound entirely pissed at the idea.

Zoro's eyebrows arched skeptically. "Liar."

"Only you and baka-senchou," Sanji corrected, and dropped his cigarette butt, snuffing it out with the toe of his shoe. He smiled then, just very slightly. "I'll only cook it if you catch it."

"Easy enough," Zoro murmured, and his stomach rumbled again. "For now just make me regular dinner, asshole. 'm hungry."

"We're in town, go to a restaurant."

Zoro'd grinned then, carelessly. "Yeah, but the chefs in town won't blow me for dessert."

He'd planned on ducking a kick to the head for that one but ended up with a mouthful of tongue instead.

Like he said-- completely unpredictable. Boggling.

"What was that for?" he asked when Sanji pulled back a moment later, mouth instinctively chasing after the one moving away from his. He didn't manage to catch it again right off, so he licked his lips instead.

"Dunno," Sanji admitted, and rested his cheek on Zoro's broad shoulder. "What do you want to eat?"

"Well now I'm horny," Zoro admitted, and pushed his hips forward a little bit to prove it.

The cook rolled his eyes. "I'll make you steak."

Zoro grunted. "Sounds good, so long as you blow me afterwards."

"Fuck you," Sanji growled, and it was like that bad mood from earlier had never even been there.

"That works too," the swordsman supposed, and finally caught those lips again.

They kissed out on the pier for a while like that, up until the moment Zoro slid a hand into the back of Sanji's pants and squeezed his ass (that _did _earn him a kick in the head), and when they broke apart with Sanji yelling at him not to do perverted stuff like that in public (Zoro didn't get it because there was no one else there), the chef suddenly remembered himself and herded his idiot marimo back towards the ship so he could start making steak.

Back in that familiar galley, Zoro watched as the blond bustled around his kitchen like he hadn't just spent a whole afternoon chain smoking and sulking. He thought to himself that it was really kind of amazing how just talking about food or something food-related was enough to distract the skinny idiot no matter how pissed off he might appear at any given moment.

Really, for such a complicated bastard Sanji could be surprisingly simple sometimes.

Which was probably why he kept on boggling sensible, rational people like Zoro.

Well, that just figured.

Zoro ate his steak and got blown after dinner (and again right before bed), and absently, he decided that maybe it would be okay to never ever figure Sanji out completely either way.

**END**


	17. Perks

**Title:** Perks   
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing/Character/s: **ZoroxSanji  
**Word Count:** 1,429  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine—just some OOCness and stupidity and fluffy cuddles.  
**Summary: **ficlet in the "Courtship Rituals" universe- It's one of the good things about marriage.  
**Dedication:** Um… it might be too OOC for dedications, but I'm gonna shout out to mango32 and sherrymarie because when I was looking back on the other stories in this series for some references you two like, commented on EVERYTHING. That gives me warm fuzzies.  
**A/N: **I tell you, I want schmoop! I can't explain why. I just. Cuddles. I yearn for ZoSan snarky cuddles. But that's OOC. So I write it for myself and hope no one mobs me in the process. XD

* * *

He wakes up half breathless and panting, the muscles in his shoulders and calves clenched tight and his blood thundering in his ears. Zoro's sleeping next to him, oblivious, and the chef bites his bottom lip when he remembers the dream that roused him from slumber just now, part of him still able to feel the phantom touches of rough hands and the hungry, clumsy kisses, the smell of sweat and soap and the taste of sake on his mouth that had seemed so real he's surprised he can't taste any there when his tongue darts out to moisten his lips.

Sanji grunts and shifts a bit and thinks that he's being ridiculous— wet dreams at his age (he's technically _married_ for god's sake) are unacceptable.

And yet…

Clenching his teeth he slides forward a little, just a bit closer to Zoro before he can properly think about what he's doing. He rests his cheek in the crook of one broad shoulder there and can't believe himself when he reaches out and strokes the slumbering swordsman's bare chest, nudging him gently. "Oi," he whispers, and thinks his cheeks must be bright pink right now. "Wakeup."

"Nnngh," Zoro grunts, and twitches a bit, swatting absently at the hand on his pectoral. "Murr."

Sanji sighs and shakes him a little harder, squirming when he feels his erection brush the curve of the other man's hip. It makes him hiss out loud, and as he does he thinks to himself that can't believe he's doing this, because he remembers how he'd kind of sneered at the swordsman for doing the same on some nights—"_Horny bastard, can't you control yourself?"_— the cook being petty and condescending even as he'd taken care of the problem, never thinking that he'd be so aroused by his own dreams that he'd resort to the very same thing one day. He's pretty certain the spiky-haired idiot will never let him live it down. But he clenches his teeth and keeps shaking the bastard anyway, telling himself all the while that this is just evening the score for all those other times— nothing to be ashamed of. "Zoro…"

The sound of his name (and not some insulting moniker) causes Zoro to actually stir and blink his eyes open, blearily. "The hell?" he groans, turning and maneuvering a big, instinctive arm around the blond to drag him closer with, so that the chef is pressed right up against his chest. "Leave me alone, asshole, 'm sleepy," he mutters, and closes his eyes again, burying his nose into Sanji's hair with a muffled sigh of content.

The blond growls and shifts again, makes a quiet, choked sort of noise when he ends up on his stomach with his cock poking Zoro in thigh. He quickly slips back onto his side even as the idiot marimo continues to hold on to him. The chef thinks that his face has to be beet red by now. "Oi," he continues, and is beginning to get a little frustrated with how soundly his bastard husband can sleep when he really wants to. "Wake up."

"Mmm," Zoro says, and in Zoro-speak that's supposed to mean he's awake, he's awake, goddammit he's awake. Sort of. Maybe. "Whaddya want?" the swordsman presses, and his hand begins absently rubbing at the chef's back like he's trying to soothe a little kid back to sleep so he'll leave him alone or something.

Sanji groans and thunks his forehead against the big lunk's chest at the contact, because his body isn't taking it in an entirely soothing (or innocent) way. "I'm horny," he admits quietly (and with great difficulty).

Something in the words must appeal to Zoro's subconscious, because his eyes actually open again, and stay that way for a bit. "Nnn… what time is it now?" he asks, and stops rubbing Sanji's back when he's cognizant enough to realize what he's doing.

"Dunno," the chef responds, and thinks he might die just a little bit if this keeps up. "Not light out yet."

"Hmmm," Zoro says. "Tch. Wake me up in the middle of the night, huh?" he continues, and rolls his neck to work out some of the kinks there, coming awake by degrees.

Sanji's mortified—waits for the sneer and the refusal, the smugness he'd used himself on nights when the situation had been reversed. "I…"

But then the blond is suddenly on his back—more confused than mortified now. He blinks up at Zoro, and the bitter apology (and subsequent string of angry curses) dies on his lips. "Eh?"

"Nothin' fancy," Zoro says simply, and his voice is still thick with sleep even as he moves. Without wasting any time, the swordsman licks his palm—three strong, even laps—and lets his hand drift down to the waistband of Sanji's pajamas, already well versed in the art of slipping right in and around.

Sanji almost shouts at the first stroke of warm, calloused fingers and Zoro shuts him up with a kiss because it's too late right now to make the chef scream like he usually does. Plus he really kind of wants to go back to sleep as soon as possible—it had been a long day.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, asshole," Sanji murmurs in-between pants when he sees the droll, sleepily determined look on the other man's face. Ever stubborn, even in this state, even with his forehead pressed up against Zoro's collarbone now, with his toes curled and his hands tightly clutching the sides of the swordsman's forearms. Doesn't want it if it's a chore, or something, the obstinate bastard. He's flushed and embarrassed though-- blushing right down to his neck and under that flimsy pajama top-- and Zoro grins broadly at that despite his tiredness; nuzzles close against the chef's throat and nibbles on a pink-tinged earlobe.

"Just shuddup'n lemme do this," he orders lowly, and changes the pressure of his hand as he speaks. "'s one of the perks."

The cook arches up and Zoro manages to clap a hand over his mouth so that his moans are muffled against it.

It doesn't take too long for Sanji to come afterwards, hot and hard into Zoro's hand while he bites down on the edge of the swordsman's palm to keep silent. He tastes blood on his tongue after a moment and when he finishes riding his orgasm out he finds himself absently lapping at the tiny trickle of hot red liquid seeping out from the other man's wound, an act of reflexive thanks (or perhaps apology) as he tries to slowly regain his wits. Zoro chuckles to himself and licks his other hand clean in the meantime, gradually draws his palm away from the blond's mouth once he hears the other man's breathing start to even out. "Okay?" he grunts, and rolls to the side without really waiting for an answer.

"Mmm," Sanji murmurs dumbly, feeling immensely better even as he shifts to look at the swordsman. "What about…I mean…are you…" He clears his throat.

"Maybe in the morning," Zoro admits tiredly, and nestles back onto his side facing the chef. Yawning, he promptly closes his eyes and leans forward, absently kissing the side of the other man's throat before he's fast asleep again, snoring right into Sanji's ear like nothing happened at all.

No gloating. No leering. Not even a smirk or some lewd comment about what a horny little bastard the aho-love cook is after all.

Just… a kiss.

Sanji stares up at the ceiling for a while after that. He's tempted to light a smoke like he usually does after sex, except the blond is suddenly hyper aware of the fact that Zoro doesn't really like the smell and that he's sleeping right now. After he'd…

Sanji turns red again and sighs.

"One of the perks, huh?" he murmurs to himself, and is so embarrassed just saying it aloud in a whisper like that that he shifts uncomfortably in the hammock on reflex. "How stupid," he grumbles, though he doesn't squirm away when Zoro's hand absently snakes around his waist in his sleep.

He even reaches out and tentatively runs his fingers through the idiot marimo's hair. Zoro makes a not-entirely displeased noise through his nose at that and continues to snore happily on.

Sanji feels something suspiciously like a smile tug at the corner of his lips and charitably, he thinks he'll make the idiot's favorite breakfast for him come morning.

That, the chef supposes, can be one of the perks too.

**END**


	18. Man's Pride

**Title:** Man's Pride  
**Rating:** R (R?)  
**Pairing/Character/s: **SanjixZoroxSanji  
**Word Count:** 2,047  
**Warning/s: **No spoilers I can imagine—just some OOCness and stupidity and horniness  
**Summary: **ficlet in the "Courtship Rituals" universe- Sanji's pride as a man is at stake. Maybe.  
**Dedication:** tsukishine- Haha I was surprised to see SanZo but you know what? It works either way. XD  
**A/N: **The theme requested was "_Imagine_." It's in there. Sort of. Also, this was too horrific for me to go back and edit. Ever. SO PLEASE HELP ME.

* * *

"I don't see why ya always gotta complain," Zoro grumped, and wiped his hand off. Sanji, despite being flushed and panting still, glared back at him instinctively anyway, though he shuddered on reflex when the swordsman dragged the cloth along his stomach and the inside of his thighs-- a quick, methodical clean up.

Zoro leered then, though there was nothing malicious about it—just appreciative. "See? You get as hot as I do."

Sanji glowered. "That's not the point."

Zoro shrugged and tossed the rag into the corner for now—imagined that after tonight (maybe he'd been a little bit rough) he'd have to use that little strip of cloth to jack off to while his spouse sulked and puttered about for the next few days, trying to regain whatever dignity he'd lost during the last hour or so they'd spent fucking. "What _is_ the point then?" he asked gruffly, and lay down next to the other man, momentarily sated from their previous exertions.

Sanji turned a little bit pink. "The point is nothing. Go to sleep."

Zoro scowled, mostly because when Sanji said something was nothing it meant that it was _everything _and he really wished the fucker would just say what he meant one of these days. Gave Zoro a headache. "You're all worked up about somethin'," the swordsman grunted, and eyed the blond carefully. "I can tell cuz you get that little V-crease right between your stupid eyebrows when ya are." He reached out and pushed the aforementioned spot with the tip of his index finger.

"Don't touch me, marimo," Sanji harrumphed, and slapped away the offending digit. "It's not like you'd care about what was bothering me anyway."

Zoro gritted his teeth a little at the accusation because it was exactly the sort of retarded thing the blond always said that was guaranteed to annoy him the most out of all retarded annoying things in the world. "If I didn't care I wouldn'ta asked, fucker. Now tell me." Pause. "Or are ya too scared or somethin'?"

Zoro supposed the flip side of Sanji always knowing exactly what to say to piss him off most was that he also knew the exact way to piss stupid-brows off the most in return.

"I'm not scared!" Sanji bit back, right on cue. "The point is… this point is! You ah… you always…er, and I…" The chef's brow furrowed as he tried to find a good way to put this. He settled for an embarrassed: "I'm not your woman, dammit!" in the end though, and figured that there was just no getting around this kind of issue with any sort of delicacy.

Zoro simply blinked. "Well, yeah. And?"

Sanji blinked back. "That's all you have to say?"

Zoro wondered if Sanji wanted some sort of reminder or something, about the fact that he had a cock. Pretty nice one too, got hard and hot pretty fast and Zoro knew just how to work it to get the blond to scream. "Oi, stupid love-cook," he started, slowly just in case, "you do remember that you've got a…"

"I _know_ that," Sanji cut him off, and was vaguely horrified at the fact that he knew the idiot well enough to _read his thoughts_ now. Oh _god_. "What I mean is…well…" he trailed off and slapped a hand to his face. "Never mind. I told you it was nothing."

Zoro nudged him impatiently. "If you're gonna whine about it do it properly, scaredy-cat asshole. Otherwise don't bring it up at all."

Sanji's eyes narrowed—he would have called it sulking if it wasn't such an ugly word for a handsome man. "Look, all I'm saying is," he started, and averted his eyes sideways, "doesn't the idea bother you? Even a little?"

"What idea?"

Sanji twitched, because this obviously wasn't going to be made any easier by Zoro's instinctive method of barreling through things, as embarrassing and touchy as they might be. "Being…" the blond made a vague motion in the air with his hand, "pushed down….climbed on top of… doesn't the idea hurt your pride as a man? Even just a little? It has to."

Zoro blinked at the murky descriptions. "Actually it's kind of…"

"If you say it's making you horny I'm going to knee you in the balls, idiot marimo. Are you even _listening_ to me?"

Zoro's jaw snapped shut for a moment at the threat. From there he turned thoughtful—husband senses on high alert maybe, telling him he was in murky territory and to tread lightly. But… he still didn't really get it. "Does it really bother you that much?"

Sanji flushed a bit. "Of course it does! Why would I bring it up if it didn't?"

Zoro grunted, still turning the words over in his head. Truth be told, it didn't really make any sense to him. Then, very seriously, he asked: "Am I bad at sex or something?"

Sanji choked on his own spit. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Pause. "Are you drunk?"

"I'm not drunk. I think." Zoro's brow furrowed. "And it makes sense, asshole! If something's bothering you about having sex with me then that must mean my technique isn't good enough yet." He set his jaw determinedly at the idea of that being the problem. "I need to train harder."

Sanji, in all his WTF horror, could just see it now. Zoro sex-training techniques added to the idiot's already monstrous daily work out. _Sex techniques_. And then he would end up yelling ridiculous things like "Humping bull!" or "Dragon thrust!" in the middle of fucking like he did while he was fighting and Sanji would never be able to look him in the eye again. _Ever_.

"It's not that you're bad at it!" the chef assured the swordsman hastily, because being hit by something called a dragon thrust during sex didn't sit particularly well in his mind (or his ass).

Sanji nearly sighed with relief as he visibly saw the mental images of special sex-techniques training sessions vanish from the swordsman's head. "So then what?" Zoro pressed, and was starting to look more confused now than anything else.

Sanji slapped a hand to his forehead. Again. Figured he could only be disgustingly blunt about the whole damned thing for his idiot to get it. "Look, all I'm saying is that when you fuck me maybe part of me is a little bit indignant okay? I have my pride, is all."

Zoro shifted. "What's pride got to do with it?"

"Everything!"

Zoro tilted his head to the side and thought that maybe he was actually starting to get what the idiot love-cook was babbling about now. "So you get embarrassed because I fuck you or something?"

Sanji's blush went all the way down his shirt—possibly to his toes. "Maybe."

Zoro promptly laughed right in the chef's face. "You're such a dumbass, aho-cook."

Sanji bristled and sat up, turning even redder and just about ready to kick the insensitive bastard out of bed for the next _forever_. "Goddammit I…"

Zoro tugged him down again though-- right on top of him-- trapping the blond in a cage of ridiculously strong arms. The way his chest was moving, Sanji could tell the bastard was still laughing. Embarrassed, he struggled, but Zoro had gotten pretty good at pinning him down in the past few months. "Fucker, lemme go," he grunted, and tried to headbutt the bastard under the chin.

Zoro grinned and countered by shifting his head to the side and pushing the chef's more closely against him with the square edge of his jaw. "You're a dumbass," he murmured lowly, his breath ghosting lightly in the cook's ear. "Is that really all that's bothering you?"

Sanji tried to shift a knee to get it into the bastard's stomach, but was countered with a slide of the swordsman's leg, tangling his foot into the loose cloth at the side of the hammock. "I'm gonna kill you once you move, bastard…" the cook breathed, and dug his elbow a little bit into the Zoro's chest because that was all he could really move at this point.

"Fuck me right now," Zoro countered smoothly, and sounded even pleased at the idea.

Wait _what_?

Sanji went perfectly still at the words, struggles suddenly forgotten. "You can't be serious."

Zoro released him inch by inch when he was certain no kicking was coming his way, the swordsman looking down at the chef with an expression that said yeah, he was completely serious.

The blond gaped for a second. Unbelievable.

Just…unbelievable.

He sighed then, and suddenly felt like he was putting way too much effort into this considering how Zoro was taking it. "Is it really just that easy for you to say something that?" he asked, and sounded skeptical. "Don't you have any pride?

Zoro shrugged. "Got tons of it, but I still don't get what the hell they've to do with each other," he started, and relaxed his arms though they remained wrapped around the blond's thin waist. "'Sides, I've watched ya come plenty of times. Looks like you're having a good enough time," he said simply, the tiniest hint of a glint in his eye that suggested to the chef that the swordsman was happily reliving one of those moments right now, deep in the pits of the Zoro's-perverted-mind-theater that showcased nightly in the idiot's head.

Sanji reached out and smacked him. "Oi, pay attention."

Zoro grinned. "Yeah?"

Sanji tried talking slower this time, just in case he'd been going too fast for the dumbass to understand just now. "You're just gonna say something like that? You'd let me fuck you and you'd have no problem with it?"

Zoro blinked and wondered why Sanji was talking slower all of a sudden. "Nope."

The chef hated it, but his blush was back again—full force. "You… do you even know… can you even imagine what…"

Pause.

The chef stared at the slow leer that was beginning to spread on his husband's face as he spoke.

_God_. That perverted-mind-theater _never stopped_.

"Looks good to me," Zoro grunted, and shifted under the blond. Sanji sighed when a telltale arousal brushed up between his thighs.

And just like that, the chef suddenly felt like he had absolutely no energy left to fight. Especially not with Zoro apparently fantasizing about Sanji fucking him while they were trying to have a conversation (argument).

_A conversation_ for god's sake.

He sighed and rested his forehead against the swordsman's chest. "I'm too tired to fuck you right now," he told the other man in a resigned manner. "You make my head hurt."

"Oi…" Zoro protested, and shifted his hips again to let the blond know that as tired as he was (that was his own fault anyway), Zoro was still horny here. "Gonna make my balls hurt you keep that shit up, damned cocktease."

Funny—but not really surprising—that that was the one and only thing Zoro had really gotten worked up about in this whole joke of a conversation. Sanji pushed himself up onto his hands then, huffed his hair out of his face, and sidled down a little bit.

Zoro's eyebrows arched in pleased surprise at the blond's easy compliance. "You gonna blow me?"

"Will it shut you up?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Then yeah, I'm gonna blow you."

The perverted-mind-theater temporarily paused for an intermission in which all the blood currently supporting it drained southward so that Zoro's fourth katana could do its happy dance of blow job joy.

Sanji groaned to himself at the idiot marimo's idiot expression, relaxed his throat, and promptly swallowed the idiot marimo whole.

After they finished, he was tugged back up and kissed thoroughly, even though he wondered as to how his breath might smell after such an act. "I'm fucking you tomorrow," he told Zoro matter-of-factly, while the idiot was still busy grinning like an idiot. He wasn't getting out of it no matter what now.

"Sweet," Zoro murmured, thinking to himself that he might not need that dirty rag sitting sad and lonely in the corner of the room after all. "I like being married."

Sanji kicked him in the shin and told him to go the hell to sleep.

**END**


	19. Letters Home

**Title:** Letters Home  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s: **vague hints of Luffy+Nami, ZoroxSanji, Nojiko, and the appearance of most of the rest of the crew too.  
**Word Count:** 1,380  
**Warning/s: ** Stupidity, OOCness… randomness. XD Also, obvious spoilers for the Arlong Park arc.  
**Summary: **Side story (future fic) in the "Courtship Rituals" universe—Nami on the occasion of Nojiko's engagement.  
**Dedication:** tokkichan- You steal from me, my first Luffy+Nami fic. XD Hopefully it's not too crappy a steal. Also, thank to kyrakitty and arrakas for helping my stupid memory. XD  
**A/N: **The theme requested was "_Mail."_ I am still too lazy to write outside of this crack-ass universe I have made. XD

* * *

When she got the letter in the mail announcing Nojiko's engagement she smiled and thought that that was nice, that her sister deserved something like normalcy after all the things they'd been put through at Arlong's hands. 

A marine no less—he looked sweet and calm and very responsible in the picture enclosed, and Nami thought that they seemed like an oddly perfect match in all their apparent… well, normalcy. She was very happy she and her sister had both found something that suited them after they'd won the freedom they'd wanted for so long.

Smiling to herself, the navigator of the straw hat pirates took her favorite seat out on the deck of the ship and began to write her sister a response.

_Dear Nojiko,_

In the background cannons fired and explosions blew the water out from around them, but the ship was kept steady enough by the crew's defense that her writing didn't smudge.

Luffy laughed in excitement and launched himself headfirst through the keel of one of the attacking marine ships, landing on the deck of the galleon behind it. "Gomu-Gomu no HARPOON!"

"My, that's a new one, isn't it?" Robin observed calmly from beside Nami, and disarmed all the sailors currently storming their peaceful little ship with a quietly ominous _crunch_.

"Mmm," Nami agreed absently, and thought about what to write back to Nojiko about.

_Congratulations on your engagement! He looks like a good catch, I think. Or if he isn't you'll eventually beat him into one, ne? As for me, life's been pretty calm here on Grand Line…_

The cry of indignant Marines cut through the air as Luffy stormed their ship and attacked—their kitchen.

"Wooo sashimi!"

"Mugiwara's raiding the galley! Attack!"

_I guess the big news on board lately has been the fact that Sanji and Zoro have since gotten married as well…_.

"Idiot marimo, didn't I tell you to duck?"

"I already told you to duck first!"

"Well I wasn't going to duck unless you ducked!"

"Dumbass!"

"Fucker!"

"ATTACK RORONOA, MEN!"

"Don't _call me that_!"

"They were talking to me, aho-cook!"

…_hehe, I think they're a surprisingly loving couple._

"I'm going to kill you later, mosquito-target brow!"

"Yeah? You won't find anyone else who'll have sex with your ugly, smelly ass in all the damned world, stupid ox!"

"_Luffy is well too, I'll tell him you asked about him. He'll be glad to know you remember him, I think. It's always been the simple things that make him happiest."_

"Mugiwara raided the galley!"

"GONE! It's all gone!"

_And while we're on the topic of Luffy I also want you to know that I think your oh-so-subtle accusations are a little bit unfounded—we're not living in romantic sin with one another on the high seas like in whatever trashy romance novels you've been reading lately. He's the kind of idiot captain whose greatest loves will always be food, drink, and adventure, after all._

Usopp's panicked cry interrupted her missive writing for a moment and she glanced up, just in time to see him grab desperately at the fallen form of his captain with his eyes full of tears. "Luffy! Luffy get up! There's still more marines!" the frightened cannoneer shrieked and shook Luffy fiercely.

Luffy grinned back at him happily despite the shaking and rubbed his swollen stomach. "Gomu-gomu no food coma," he announced, and belched right into the sharpshooter's face.

Usopp mibbled and shook him harder. "Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup!"

Luffy promptly did the exact opposite. His snores sounded quite content, even from where Nami was sitting.

With tears in his eyes, Usopp stood and solemnly announced, "Captain down!"

And then, in a smaller voice, "Zoro, Sanji, Robin, I leave it to you!"

Robin smiled. "Of course, nagahana-kun."

Behind her, a galleon sprung arms and was dragged forcibly under the water.

Nami went back to writing.

_Luffy's not the kind of man one falls in love with in any case—can you imagine how badly suited we would be for one another? I hope your engagement to Marine-kun isn't founded on the same basis as your assumptions about me and Luffy, Nojiko! Haha well. I'm sure it's not—he looks like he'll be a very responsible type of husband. Not at all like Luffy. Actually, he'll probably be more like-- surprisingly-- Zoro. Though hopefully more tactful._

"Is that the last one?"

"We can't sink them all, dumbass, how're they gonna get home?"

Zoro sighed. "Fine, lemme go fuck up the cannons at least, so they'll stop shooting at us."

"You sound disappointed."

"I was expecting more of a workout."

"Figures." Pause. "How worked up are you, anyway?"

Pause back. Then, a distinctively happier sounding, "I'm pretty damn worked up."

"Wanna…"

Grin. "Hell yes. But first go get Chopper to wrap up that cut on your leg, stupid eyebrows."

Sanji scowled. "Che. Fine."

They surreptitiously exchanged a quick kiss on the cheek before Sanji went off to go find Chopper and Zoro went off to fuck up some cannons.

_Anyway, I should keep this short because it looks like everyone is about ready to head out again. I'll include a longer letter later, after I've found a fitting wedding gift for you. I'm sorry I can't be there to see it myself, but take lots of pictures for me, ne? _

_Love, _

_Nami_

The sound of cannons being fucked up told her things were just about done, and standing, Nami padded over towards Luffy's side as she held the letter between her hands, blowing on the ink to help it set faster. "Oi, Luffy."

He made a generally happy noise in the back of his throat, but didn't wake up.

She nudged him with her shoe. "Oi, Luffy!" she repeated, and her voice had a dangerous edge to it (i.e. one that suggested the nudging would turn to stepping would turn to stomping if it got to that).

"Mmmph, Nami?" The captain's eyes blinked open then and he grinned up at her happily. "I saved you some meat!" he reached into his pocket.

She made a face. "Um, that's okay. You can have it."

Luffy sat up, eyes shining. "Wah, really!"

She nodded. "Yeah, really."

He hugged her ankles. "You're being so nice today!"

Her eyebrow twitched at the "today" part, just a little bit. "But in exchange I need a favor."

He was busily munching on his meat, but nodded up at her around a mouthful of it anyway. "Mppph!" (Translation: "Sure!")

She smiled. "Nojiko's getting married next month and I need to stop somewhere nice to get her a present…"

The captain's eyes got big. "We should send her lots of meat!"

Nami sighed, patiently. "Maybe something that won't smell when it gets to her."

"Oh, good idea, Nami! I guess I'll just eat the meat then…"

"WE HAVEN'T BOUGHT IT YET."

A few weeks later, a package arrived at Cocoyashi village for Nojiko, brightly wrapped and suspiciously heavy.

The letter attached to the present read as follows:

_Dear Nojiko,_

_Congratulations again, I hope this present suits your tastes. Not a WORD about the inscription on the card—he insisted._

Nojiko smiled at that and went straight to the card taped to her nicely wrapped gift next, laughing out loud when she saw the two parts there-- one with her name in Nami's familiar, elegant script and just below that, a self-portrait that any four-year-old could have drawn with crayon.

_Hi Nojiko-san! This is me! _the writing read, and pointed to the self-portrait. _Do you remember me?_

She remembered him very well, actually.

_I wanted to buy you meat for your present but Nami let me have it instead! She's being really nice today! So… here's something she picked out! I don't think you can eat it though. Too bad! Have a happy wedding! Make lots of babies!_

And there, at the very bottom of the card,

_From Nami…_

_And me! Luffy! From both of us!_

Nojiko laughed again and promptly went to pin the card and letter up in the same spot where she kept the rest of Nami's rare and precious missives.

Smiling to herself, she supposed that on a place as strange and wonderful as Grand Line, you didn't always need a ceremony to show the world how things stood.

**END**


	20. Just a Girl

**Title:** Just a Girl  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairing/Character/s:** ZoroxSanji, mentions of Zoro+Tashigi  
**Topic:** Jealousy  
**Word Count:** 2,383  
**Warning/s:** Sap, Fluff, OOC, idiocy. Sorry!  
**Summary:** CR Universe ficlet- Jealousy rears its ugly head.  
**Dedication:** for tokkichan— A deceptively difficult prompt! Especially since you said you wanted schmoop. Well! Here is schmoop! Not particularly good schmoop, but schmoop all the same. XD;;  
**A/N:** This is very openly sappy. Which probably means it's a physical impossibility, even in the sappiness of CR universe. MIND BOGGLING isn't it? And probably too fluffy for very serious fans of OP who insist on quality control and um, realistic-ness. Ah well, it was an interesting write, if anything. XD;;

Rationally he knew he wasn't being fair. _Every_ pretty girl he ran across meant hearts and stars in his eyes, praise from his lips, music to his ears.

For Zoro, it was just the one—that single one in all the world-- who he reacted to, and that reaction was, admittedly, to turn around and run away.

But still…something about that made Sanji, well, not unhappy exactly, but not exactly perfectly fine either (though he'd never, ever admit it out loud).

And the rational part of him knew it wasn't fair to think like this anyway. Zoro would just roll his eyes at the blond when his head would turn at the sight of a pretty passerby, would maybe just put an arm around the chef as they walked for the second Sanji let it be there before he kicked the possessive idiot in the head, and that would be the end of it. Not a word about it otherwise.

This? This had Sanji frowning and thinking on it for hours afterwards. Long ones.

Maybe it was the fact that it was just the _one_ girl that bugged him. She was cute after all, and liked to point sharp phallic things at Zoro's face and threaten him with violence, which the chef _knew_ was some sort of weird turn on for the idiot.

It was just one girl, he told himself over and over and over again—a pretty one at that—and Sanji couldn't _believe_ that she bothered him, and not in the fun way.

One girl in all the world who could make Zoro freeze in his tracks.

And because she was _that _girl, she made Sanji frown instead of cause his heart to pitter-patter in his chest like she should.

A beautiful girl. Making Sanji _not happy_.

_That_ was how much that asshole marimo had screwed the chef up over the past few months.

And now look at him!

He was _jealous_ (sort of, but not really. Okay maybe a little…) of a pretty girl. A pretty girl he wasn't even thinking of romancing_ at all_. Ever.

The cook sighed to himself and smoked rather viciously. This could possibly be horrific. Zoro was making him _gay..._ er. Gayer.

And it kind of pissed him off.

Meanwhile, from a safe distance away, the aforementioned asshole marimo watched his glowering spouse and tried to figure out what the hell he'd done wrong _this_ time before he took any steps to correct it. He'd long since learned that going in half-cocked wasn't the strategy (at least when dealing with _marriage_—it was a perfectly fine plan when otherwise battling), mostly because the last time he'd tried to make up for what he did (and wasn't sure what that was), he'd been cut off for like, three days. _God_.

As such, to discover this cause for the blond's chain-smoking irritation _today_, the swordsman went through the standard mental checklist of things that had potentially pissed Sanji off over the past few days and came up with… absolutely…nothing.

He hadn't performed any of those little public displays of possession the chef hated (as far as he knew anyway)—they'd only touched down on an inhabited island for about an hour and a half before the goddamned marines (and _that woman_) had chased them off, after all. And it wasn't like there was anyone _here _to try and be modest around—everyone had walked in on an eyeful or two between the newlyweds in the sort of inevitable way living on a ship this size mandated between crewmates.

Couldn't be that then.

He hadn't forgotten to set the table or do the dishes _once_ for at least… two weeks now, either.

He hadn't broken anything in the kitchen.

Hadn't wasted any food.

Hadn't wasted any booze either (not that that pissed the cook off or anything, but he thought it was a good point he might as well add to the side of the list he marked as "things I didn't fuck up").

Hadn't left any visible marks during sex—that was usually a big one.

Hadn't forgotten to warn the blond when he was gonna come—also a big one, especially on nights the chef had already washed his hair and didn't fancy having to do it again so soon.

Hadn't forgotten to buy new mouthwash, and definitely, _definitely_ had tons of lube.

Took out the trash every freakin' goddamned day.

Clean underwear—check.

Clean shirt—check. Mostly. Only on it's third day, in any case.

BO? Not really. Maybe a little sweaty, but Zoro was pretty damned certain that Sanji _liked_ that despite how much he denied it (the frequent tonguing during sex said something after all, even if the lying horn dog bastard didn't).

No important dates missed as far as Zoro knew either—asshole chef's birthday was _months_ ago. Anniversary approaching but not _here_ yet. Unless there was an eighth month thing. Was there something you were supposed to do for your eighth month? Nami was supposed to _warn_ him about these things goddammit—that's what he paid her for.

Well, that probably wasn't it then. If anything she was a shrewd (demonic) business woman—she wouldn't give up that 10 stake in Zoro's share of booty just to spite him. Hopefully.

Maybe there was some weirdo holiday he didn't know about or something. National Cook's Appreciation Day. Gay Pirate's Day. Gay Pirate Cooks' National Day of Appreciation.

Eh… probably not.

National I Fuck Hot Swordsmen Day?

Hmm… maybe.

Or not that either, really.

I Fuck _A _Hot Swords_man_ Day.

Better. Much better.

But still. _Argh_. Zoro scowled to himself and continued to watch Sanji scowl and smoke to _himself _down the way a little bit.

Zoro was fairly certain whatever it was wasn't his fault.

Though he was also pretty certain—knowing the aho-cook—that it could be _made_ to be his fault with just the proper wording.

A dilemma.

But still, Zoro's instincts were screaming _something_ at him, and maybe it was in the way the chef's pissed off mood was a little bit of something else as well today, that it wasn't just pure anger coming off the blond but that there was something melancholy about it too.

That really bothered the fucking _shit_ out of Zoro because he was doing his damned best (goddamit) so that the stupid prissy bastard chef wouldn't have anything to be sad (and thus pissed at Zoro) about.

It was the Zoro system. Angry was okay. Angry was natural. Sad didn't fit into the scheme of things as Zoro saw the world. Sad was a goddamned waste of time. And pathetic. Really, really pathetic. Not manly at all.

And Sanji sad made his stomach churn in a weird way. Sort of. Maybe.

_Argh_.

Stupid chef made him so goddamned _gay _sometimes. Thinking about _feelings_ and _stomachaches_ and _sadness_. Fucking sadness!

Zoro's jaw twitched. Only one thing left to do then.

Sanji in the meantime, had gotten to predictions about what strangely violent children Tashigi and Zoro would have if it came to that— nearsighted hulking blue-and-green-haired babies who believed in justice and that animal crackers were _cookies_ and not _crackers_ even though that was obviously _wrong_. They'd grow up wielding six swords apiece and never learn how to appreciate the finer culinary arts because all they'd eat all their lives was meat their papa grilled until it was black and doused with salt 'cuz that was "good enough." They would also all have unbelievably high pain tolerances and as adults, have eight month long flings with chain-smoking blonds until they wised up to the truth in life an settled down with a good woman.

There would be two boys and one girl. Sanji didn't know why he imagined that specifically, but it all really made sense in his head. None of them would ever know that a good brandy was far superior to a cheap grog, and well worth the extra cost even if the volume sold per unit beli was less.

The thought somehow, made him feel strangely…sad.

Which earned him a sharp rap on the head a moment or two later, when Zoro appeared behind him looking more surly than usual.

"The hell was that for?" Sanji growled reflexively, and elbowed the swordsman in the stomach in retaliation.

Zoro grunted but didn't fold, wrapped two heavy arms around Sanji instead and rested his head on the chef's shoulder like he liked to do. "The hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," Sanji told him, and continued to smoke. But he settled back against Zoro a little bit, and that was really a big old screaming clue (like everything else was) that the aho-cook was troubled.

Which Zoro took as a sign that read "Approach with Caution."

"Are you mad at me?" he asked next, and figured "caution" was just a fancy word for "pussyfoot" anyway.

Silence.

And then a sigh and a tired sounding, "No, I guess not."

Okay. Not that then.

Which kind of meant Zoro was out of options, since it was usually the safe bet to assume that the blond was mad at him. Usually he was just prepared to deal with that.

Well shit.

"Hmm," Zoro grunted then, and suddenly found himself in uncharted waters. Because while Nami had given him probably every _possible_ hypothetical scenario of the things he was going to do wrong, she definitely, _definitely_ hadn't talked to him about what to do if Sanji _wasn't_ mad at him. Guess she supposed that would never be an issue.

Bitch.

And so there was silence between the two of them for a good long while after that, and the fact that it was quiet with Zoro's arms _still _around the blond like they were kind of made him nervous. He wondered if just apologizing anyway would fix it. Or something. At least get a smug smile out of the asshole and then…

"Oi… I'm…er… I'm… tch. Never mind."

Dammit. Still some things he couldn't just do, he supposed. Pride and all that.

But Sanji started the conversation anyway, began with the customary "Hey, asshole…" and paused to stub out his cigarette before speaking again, "that marine girl… she's pretty cute, huh?"

Well. That was weird.

"I uh, I guess she's not ugly," Zoro offered, tentatively.

"I think maybe she likes you."

"Huh," the swordsman grunted, and realized that hearing Sanji's voice when he talked like that was making his stomach turn in not-nice ways again. "I think she wants to kill me?" he put out, and wasn't confused about that part, at least.

"Lots of people want to kill you, dumbass. I think she _likes_ you."

"Huh," Zoro echoed. "And?"

"She's cute," Sanji reiterated, nonchalantly. "I mean…I'd do her."

Zoro's eyes narrowed a bit. "You would, huh?"

Sanji shrugged. "Wouldn't you?"

Zoro supposed this was good—that uneasy feeling in his stomach was beginning to burn into something much more familiar. "I dunno, I never thought about it," he said, and his voice might have been just the slightest bit clipped.

"No?" Sanji pushed, and felt like his throat was dry. Weird. Maybe he was catching a cold.

"No!"

"Not even accidentally maybe? Had a dream or…"

This was really fucking annoying. "I once dreamed she took two swords, put 'em together and used 'em like scissors to cut my goddamned head off! The hell is wrong with you, dumbass?"

Sanji blinked, and looked vaguely stunned when he heard that. "Scissors?"

Zoro glowered upon realizing what he'd just admitted. "It's possible, ya know," he muttered, and sounded almost embarrassed.

"_Scissors_?"

"Shut the hell up," Zoro snarled. "It was kind of horrible until I realized you were crying over my body. Then I knew it was just a fucked up dream."

"I definitely wouldn't cry," Sanji agreed, as expected. But his voice was a little softer now, and it didn't make Zoro's stomach revolt any when he heard it.

Probably because the image of Zoro's head getting cut off by a pair of giant katana-scissors was amusing to the bastard in a grotesque way.

Which was an assessment Sanji would agree with. As well as admit to himself that it was oddly comforting, too.

Pause.

"So…" Sanji started after a moment, and felt kind of idiotic, "eight months, huh?"

Zoro blinked at the sudden segue, the noticeable change in the chef's tone. "You are so fucking weird, aho-cook," he muttered, and was vaguely horrified when it came out more mystified than annoyed.

Sanji's eyes narrowed a bit at that, but not in a way that set any of Zoro's self-preservation (sex-preservation) instincts on edge. "_I'm_ not the one who clearly forgot the eighth month mark,"the blond declared after a moment, and looked at Zoro expectantly.

Shit, so that's what it was?

Zoro scowled to himself and promised to give Nami an earful for not telling him about the whole thing later.

In the meantime, Sanji looked like he was laughing at him—at least in the eyes—and Zoro felt his stomach settle for the first time all day, which was probably the only reason the laughing asshole wasn't pissing him off with all that attitude, even if Zoro was the one at fault for having forgotten an important day.

"You're so fucking weird," the swordsman reiterated after a moment, and absently kissed the back of the cook's throat as he said it. "Happy eighth month then, I guess," he added, though it only seemed to amuse the blond even more when he did.

What an asshole. Seriously.

Well, he supposed he could let it slide this time.

Because while he wasn't exactly sure how (or who'd been shooting at him, exactly), Roronoa Zoro was pretty damned certain he'd just dodged some sort of bullet.

And his gut told him it had been a pretty big one, too.

Sanji in the meantime, thought that—despite his facetious nature at the present moment-- in the future, the eighth month marker would more likely than not become something worth celebrating between the two of them after all.

Because he was beginning to learn that the anniversaries of discoveries were perhaps even more important than the anniversaries of the occasions that led to them.

Zoro, predictably, didn't get it.

**END**


	21. Burden

**Title: **A Heavy Burden  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Theme/Topic:** Deliberate  
**Character/Pairing/s:** SanZo  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** No spoilers I can imagine. Probably crack and OOC to watch out for though. XD;;  
**Word Count:** 831  
**Time:** 32 mins (no edits)  
**Summary:** Crack drabble in the "CR" universe- Sanji wonders about the last name gifted to him.  
**Dedication:** tsukishine- as requested on my other lj.  
**A/N: **Haha I was seriously, seriously stumped for the longest time as to how to go about this prompt. This was the only thing that would come to me, and I apologize for the stupidity of it. Sort of. XD  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, though I wish constantly.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

Sanji was on the verge of a breakthrough. He was just about to figure it (everything) out—find that one little easily overlooked thing that would make all of his married life thus far suddenly make absolute and irrefutable sense.

After all this time he was finally going to discover why—_why—_exactly, those stupid marines and the stupid world government and the stupid _everyone else_ had automatically assumed it was "Roronoa Sanji" and not the other way around after the ceremony. Though to be honest, the other way around might have been confusing to _some_, but seriously. Sanji was not the wife. End sentence. Period. _Emphatic _period even.

And thus here he was, sitting in the galley by himself sipping wine (not drunk or even tipsy so much as say, _getting the mental juices flowing) _while smoking, just about to figure out why people were having that common (rather idiotic if he had any say in it)misconception. He could feel himself growing steadily closer and closer to the elusive thing called epiphany as he sat at the table with steepled fingers and concentrated hard.

He was almost there.

Really, he was learning that it could be the most seemingly innocuous thing that led to these sorts of misunderstandings in the long run, that ended up perpetuating what he liked to call "the wrong goddamned idea, dumbasses."

And a minute later, when it finally, _finally_ hit him— the hint of an idea pushed over the edge of subconscious knowledge into actual, conscious, _cognizant _knowledge as it became a fully formed thought—he couldn't believe it was that a simple. That it always had been.

It wasn't the little gestures of possession like he'd initially thought it was, wasn't the way Zoro liked to sometimes snag him absently around the waist while he passed, the big caveman idiot tugging his spouse into his lap without a word of warning so much as a series of self-satisfied grunts. And it wasn't because Sanji could fit comfortably into the crook of the meat-head's shoulder, or that Zoro, when he wanted to, could wrap one big arm completely around the blond's lean waist as easy as one-two-three. It wasn't because Sanji cooked either, or because he dressed well and _bathed_ frequently, wasn't because Zoro outweighed him by a good thirty or so pounds.

Nope, Sanji realized now, that it wasn't any of those things that had led to the common misconception that he was the quote-unquote "wife" of the relationship, as seemingly obvious as all those things might seem as indicators of such.

It was something more primal than that, something driven purely by the instincts of those looking at the fearsome pirate couple from the depths of their own little psychological mindset. A natural conclusion they got despite the fact that Sanji could crush two-ton iron balls with his _toes_ and bend lead pipes with his very toned (and very manly) thighs.

No, he now knew it was something too powerful for such facts to overcome in the long run. Sighing, he realized that perhaps his fate was sealed then, because no show of physical strength or testosterone driven manliness could stifle this one, overwhelming irreversible natural fact.

Sanji was fucking _gorgeous_.

He was so much better looking than Zoro that it was just _natural_ that everyone assumed he was the bottom of the relationship, because all those people had been socialized from an early age to see men with women, and women would always, _always_ be prettier than the men whom they married.

And thus, the epiphany.

Sanji was, on his own, pretty damned good looking already. But next to Zoro he was like a fucking _god_.

He knew that now. Understood it.

It was just his fate, he supposed, his _calling_ if you will, to always stand beside his great hulking muscle-bound idiot and come off as the naturally more beautiful of the two. And thus, and _thus_ the misconception that he was the bottom, the "wife."

He sighed dramatically to himself at the thought, reached to light another cigarette.

Oh well. Now that he knew, there was nothing that could be done about it either way, he supposed. He wasn't in the habit of changing people's deeply ingrained socialized ideas, for one.

And for another, it wasn't _his_ fault (and thus not his responsibility) that Zoro was ugly (and stupid, and smelly, and rude, and generally uncivilized), after all.

That thus admitted to himself, the blond squared his jaw and decided that all he could do from here on out was bear it with magnanimity, because no amount of divine intervention could ever—_ever—_reverse the situation (i.e. could ever—_ever—_make Zoro better looking than him).

This was the burden of the beautiful, he supposed.

Well, it was a weight he'd just have to carry, for both himself _and_ the ugly idiot whose last name he'd been given.

Sacrifices, sacrifices.

Zoro was so damn lucky to have married him. Seriously.

**END**


	22. Marine's Cycle

**Title: **Marine's Cycle  
**Rating: PG-13**  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Theme/Topic: **N/A  
**Character/Pairing/s: **Marine/Cannoneer  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None!  
**Word Count:** N/A  
**Time:** 2.34 hours (no edits)  
**Summary:** Continuation of the arc that last ended with "New Nakama Cycle"- Marines and Pirates are natural enemies.  
**Dedication:** idiosyn- I was actually looking through old fanarts in my memories and saw the ones you did for "Parenthood Cycle" and just felt like trying these characters out again.  
**A/N: **I guess it doesn't REALLY count as One Piece fic anymore now that it's all about original characters, but I try to maybe keep the spirit of the universe in there. Maybe.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, though I wish constantly.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

**1. One Night, Not According to Plan**

That night you'd known that you'd had paperwork to do, but since you'd given all the men shore leave so they could kick back and relax (this included the kitchen help), the detour to the tavern was necessary if nothing else—you told yourself you'd only be there for ten minutes maximum and that you'd order broiled chicken with rice and vegetables because that would at maximum, only take ten minutes to get.

You didn't count on there being a citizen who looked like he needed your help there, surrounded by what you could only assume were pirates of the lowest echelon (they probably had to draw their own wanted posters), and neither did you count on meeting a pair of eyes from across the room, beautiful and asking for help. But you did know that enough stupid people in large groups could cause significant amounts of damage, and since you'd only had ten minutes to spare, you disposed of them quickly. Those beautiful eyes may or may not have had something to do with that decision.

The man you helped smiled so bright at you afterwards that you were perhaps a bit dazzled—momentarily— by him. And it also explained why, when he reached out and touched your hand and declared you were really quite handsome, that all you could do was stutter "thank you" and not really protest when he led you away.

In the end you were gone a lot longer than ten minutes, and while you were in your cabin on your ship _next_ to the desk with your paperwork on it a few hours later, paperwork was not what you were doing.

It was the first time you'd ever turned in a late report.

**2.** **On the Clock**

He'd only stayed long enough to put his clothes back on and make sure he looked immaculate in your dresser mirror before turning around and smiling again, pecking you on the mouth in a sweetly friendly way before declaring that he'd better return to his ship—they were setting sail today.

You didn't have time to be heartbroken at that, and you were smart enough to know that this was probably what happened in these types of situations all the time, even though it was the first time you'd ever let it happen to you.

He must have seen that you were a _little_ bit sad at the prospect of his leaving anyway though, because then it was his turn to be surprised. It only lasted a moment, then he reached forward and touched your cheek briefly before finally telling you his name, before saying "I'm a pirate," and shocking you into dumb surprise for the umpteenth time in the last couple of hours. He smiled in a sort of ironic way then, kissed you one more time—soft and sweet-- before stealing out of your window with an, "it's been fun!" that sounded almost genuine.

You could have arrested him on the spot, reached out and used your logia to subdue him, but you just stared dumbly after him instead. And all your treacherous mind could think as you watched him go was that he almost_, almost_ looked better walking away from a man than walking towards.

It was the first time you'd done something contrary to your job.

**3. Do Your Job**

It was completely by chance the second time you two met up—another town, another brief supply stop on an endless journey. You had your handcuffs in your pocket and your swords strapped to your back all ready to go, but when you saw him you forgot about both those things because of the way he lit up upon seeing a familiar face. Your familiar face.

You approached him after you regained what you could of your faculties, told yourself it was your job to arrest him, especially since now, now you knew which flag he flew under. You stormed up to him and right there in the middle of the bar, threw him over your shoulder, led him out.

He laughed—had the _gall_ to—as you carried him like that. He clearly thought it was all really very fun. When you were alone in the alleyway behind the establishment you put him down and glared at him, had a whole speech prepared about how it was your duty to take him in and how that night had been a mistake etc., etc., etc. It was a speech you'd been preparing in your head for _months_ now, after all.

And just as you opened your mouth to tell it to him you ended up kissing him instead—hard enough to send you both staggering back against the wall.

You promptly forgot every word of that stupid speech.

He in the meantime, complained that his hair would get dirty. You apologized and undid your belt.

He frowned at you—only slightly—and bit your lip in retaliation, though the way his hands were working up inside your shirt, he wasn't all _that_ displeased with you.

It was the first time you let yourself laugh like that in a long time.

**4. Hello**

He told you where they were going next while the two of you were laying with his head on your chest afterwards, no rush to leave at the time.

You wrote the name of the island down and put the note in your pocket, told yourself that _maybe_ you'd head there if you had the time, if there was no urgent mission for you to attend to elsewhere. You had a job and that came first, after all. Duty, honor, service. A marine.

He left to his destination and you watched him go, pretty confident that you wouldn't see him again so soon.

You had other things to do—superiors to report to and men to command and pirates to subdue.

You saw him a week later when you docked on the island whose name was written on the note in your jacket pocket. He stole through your window and this time you didn't kiss him first or he didn't kiss you first as far as you knew because the two of you met somewhere in the middle and it was just to say hello.

He brought dinner with him packed in a little basket and you ate it together on top of your comforter on the floor of your cabin. You lit two candles and ate linguine in clam sauce and it was the best meal you'd ever tasted. The wine flowed freely and two messy bites of tiramisu were all you needed for dessert before you leaned over again, touched your forehead to his and asked if he wanted to come to bed.

His eyes were luminous in candlelight and he smiled and said "yes," in a tone you'd never heard before. It made your stomach flip.

He stayed until morning and you had to distract some of the men up for early cleaning duty while he snuck off, looking cute in a borrowed marine's uniform that didn't suit him at all.

You tried not to laugh while you spoke to your men, though your eyes twinkled as he slipped overboard right behind them.

It was the first time you'd snuck anything in your whole life.

**5. Caught**

You thought you might be in love after a couple of months, realized it somewhere in the midst of doing your work and wishing you weren't. You'd never questioned your job before, never gave following orders a second thought. It was your nature and it was all you had ever known. Work.

He really made you feel alive.

Your men must have noticed too because now they smiled and laughed with you more than they used to, said you seemed more at ease lately.

Maybe you were too much at ease, really.

One night he came and took your hand, insisted that the two of you go outside to watch the sky tonight because there was going to be something magnificent.

You should have said no because he was famous now, his _crew_ had always been and that was dangerous even if your men were all in town for the night. But in the end you never could say no to him, and so you ended up standing on the deck of your marine galleon that night, watching meteors shower across the sky, one brilliant flash after another. He marveled at the beauty and you marveled at his, wrapped your arms around him and the two of you stood like that for a long while, relaxed and content.

That feeling lasted until morning—he snuck out your window before dawn with a kiss and a note with where they were going next tucked into your jacket pocket. You watched him leave and missed him before he was even gone.

When you went to eat breakfast later, some of your men found you, and looked grim. "Taisa?" they began, "who was that you were with, last night?"

It felt like being ripped in two when you had to steel your jaw and say, "nobody."

Even worse, it was the first time your men didn't believe you.

**6. Goodbye**

You yelled at him the next time you met, told him it had been stupid and irresponsible of the both of you to get caught like that, that it couldn't happen again no matter how many stars were falling out of the sky because it wasn't worth the risk in the end, the danger it put them both in.

He went from surprised to hurt to angry in the time it took you to grab his shoulders and say all this, he shrugged you off—suddenly cold as ice—and apologized in a way that made your heart freeze in your chest. He set the basket he was holding down then-- it smelled like chicken—and very calmly turned to leave.

"So as not to inconvenience you, taisa," he said. "Please enjoy dinner."

You shouted after him to stop being irrational—what you were telling him made sense if he'd stop being so proud and think about it for a minute or two. You knew it was the logical thing for you both-- pirates and marines were natural enemies.

He left without a backwards glance anyway and you sulked because he wasn't even trying to listen to your prerogative here, he didn't understand that your job, your rank, the only life you'd ever known was at risk.

Just because you were in love.

It wasn't something you could just forget about, that you could just let go of at the drop of a hat.

It was your duty. You were honor-bound to not only the citizens of Grand Line but to your men as well.

It seemed the two of you didn't see eye to eye on that.

He left that night and you didn't see him for months again afterwards.

And your job suddenly felt like prison.

It was the first time you ever hated yourself.

**7. Pursuit **

You tipped your hand when you heard that he and his crew had been taken in shichibukai territory—something irrational and stomach churning attacked you upon learning that and you chased after him without a backwards glance, turned your whole patrol pattern upside down and forgot about your job. You left your second in charge and boatloads of confused men behind, raced off on your own because you knew he was a thinker and not a fighter and even if his captain was strong none of them had a devil's fruit ability as far as you knew.

You stormed the last known place they'd been seen, intent on being the big hero, intent on saving your beloved, apologizing for the stupid things you said, and begging forgiveness.

You found him—and _everyone_ really-- sitting around a campfire roasting marshmallows to make s'mores with and telling stories.

In the midst of it all was Fire Fist Ace, fast asleep face down in a plate of milk chocolate squares. Your lover had a black permanent marker and was idly drawing a double helix on the sleeping shichibukai's arm while the rest of his crew made merry and tried to get him to join in.

You felt idiotic standing there with your sword drawn and a grenade in one hand.

You felt even stupider when the crew all looked up and saw you standing there with your sword drawn and a grenade in one hand. Well, everyone but the shichibukai pirate, who was still asleep face down in the chocolate.

Your embarrassment mattered for as long as it took for him to realize you were here—_why_ you were here—and to stand and say, "hello."

His crew whooped and hollered at you both as he led you away, but your blood was pounding so loud in your ears you barely heard them anyway.

When you were alone he sighed and said, "You looked like a complete idiot back there."

You hugged him and said, "I'm sorry."

It was the first time you hadn't cared one whit about your reputation as a marine.

**8. Turned**

Even though you hadn't gotten to play hero in the end, you returned to your men feeling both vaguely foolish and immensely happy anyway.

It lasted up until the moment you stepped on deck.

The swords pointed reluctantly at your throat might have had something to do with it. And the sea stone cuffs were a definite dampener on your good mood.

"What's going on?" you asked, though a part of you knew the answer already anyway.

Your second was wearing your coat and your rank now, and looking sad, looking _disappointed_, he said, "You're under arrest…sir."

And so the orders had finally come in.

You didn't try to fight back at all when the men who used to serve you took you away in chains, didn't protest because you knew all along that this was going to happen one day. You'd let it get to that point, after all.

They led you away to the holding cell and you didn't say a word in your own defense as they took you to judgment at the nearest marine courthouse.

Your only regret was not being able to say goodbye.

It was the first time you were willing to die for something that wasn't your job.

**9. Sentenced**

They sentenced you to death by public execution for not only fraternizing with the enemy but committing treasonous acts to do so—they said you'd shirked your responsibilities, disregarded your sworn duty, forgotten your _true purpose_.

You told them you'd fallen in love.

They called you disgusting when they heard that, a shame to your dignified station. People speculated about you, remembered your exemplary performance in training, your rapid rise through the ranks, your precise and honorable execution of the duties required of your office. They wondered where you'd gone wrong, how someone as perfect as you had fallen in with the likes of pirates.

You wanted to tell them that before you'd met the likes of your one pirate your life had been about nothing else but duty, but honor, but obeying commands and writing reports, doing the "right thing." Except you'd done it for no reason, no real motivation in your own heart. You hadn't known what the right thing was, and so you'd let the marines dictate to you what it was, let them decide for you.

You wanted to tell them that falling in with the likes of pirates had taught you how to follow your own heart.

But they didn't listen, and so you waited to die because even if you weren't a marine anymore, you still believed in the law, the essential soul and well meaning of the system that had put you there.

At the same time you didn't regret what you did, and you thought about him every moment of every day you had left on this earth.

You lived in those memories as your time dwindled down and it was the first time you'd faced death feeling completely at peace.

**10. Bound**

Peace is for the dead.

The far wall of your cell collapsed one afternoon, sliced up then kicked in, and several faces—familiar but not intimate-- greeted you with a sort of breathless humor. "Nice day, hmm?" one said.

"Too nice a day to die," another agreed.

"Plus that fruity bastard would be pissed!" a last added more callously, laughing out loud.

You stared at them as alarms went off, and marveled at how idiotic someone had to be to break into a marine jail compound in the middle of the day with that much noise.

"_Who_ would be pissed?" a voice you'd heard a thousand times in your head over the course of the last few weeks asked.

You didn't know you were doing it, but when the dust cleared and he deigned to step into view—couldn't have his nice clothes ruined, after all—you broke out into a smile that hurt your face to hold.

"Woah there," the first voice said, "save it for the ship, kids."

"Please," the third agreed.

"I think it's cute!" the second chimed in, and a moment later, something that sounded very much like a "whoosh" centimeters from your body actually ended up being steel against rock as the sea stone shackles collapsed into a neat little pile at your feet.

The rush of your power came back to you at that moment, and though you'd missed it all this time, the rush you got stepping forward and getting dust all over those nice clothes was even better.

He didn't even begrudge you that (at least not right away) when he let you hug him, let you kiss him breathless while the onlookers groaned and told you two to please move along as the marines weren't very happy with the lot of you right now.

You ignored them for a moment though, because the world melted away when you pulled back and looked at those eyes.

He smiled. "Come with me?"

You smiled back. "Yeah."

It was the first time you were called a pirate.

**END**


	23. Mercenary's Cycle

**Title: **Mercenary's Cycle  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Universe:** One Piece (sort of)  
**Theme/Topic: **N/A  
**Character/Pairing/s: **Piecemeal Crew  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None!  
**Word Count:** N/A  
**Time:** 1.29 (no edits)  
**Summary:** Continuation of the arc that last ended with "Marine's Cycle"- All you need is understanding. And maybe soup.  
**Dedication:** idiosyn again—your drabble was OMG SO GOOD. And you know. Thug love. XD  
**A/N: **I took the day off today and this is what I ended up producing in the end. LOL I need to work on my script for the rest of the night.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, though I wish constantly.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

**1. Hired Gun**

You got a letter from your ma a week ago said that Birdy's due to see the doctor again soon on account of her cough gettin' worse with the cold months fast approachin'. You figure it gives you a coupla days to make the money you're gonna need to pay for that little visit, 'cuz if ma's gotta sell some of the crop yield to pay for the quack then she'n Birdy are gonna go hungry halfway through the winter.

You take the job some sleazy fat-cat bastard gives you because it sounds like easy money and you ain't ever had any qualms about putting some good sized bullets into a pair of pirates. You don't ask no questions and you take your first half of the pay up front so you can send it home just as soon as you can.

Your guns are loaded and you head out with just a name to your target and not mucha anything else. All you ever needed in the past anyway.

You got three days to finish the job.

**2. Oden**

The first day you ask around and turns out they're pretty famous as far as famous goes—you ain't ever heard of 'em but to each his own, right? Lots of guys said they were famous before you ended 'em, this probably won't be no different. You head where they're rumored to be at and you look for the pirate flag that they say a new part gets stitched onto every time someone joins up. You find it and it looks like some sort of kiddie quilt or somethin', lot warmer than any pirate flag oughta be.

You think it's kinda stupid, and set up a spot not far from that boat, watching every movement off and on it for the rest of the day, tryin' to figure out just who on board it is you're supposed to be killin' come tomorrow or the day after. The money's on the way to ma already anyway, no turnin' back now. You question some dock workers after you get bored just watchin', sayin' you're lookin' for a pair of Roronoa siblings.

Nice old lady sellin' oden gives you some extra fish cakes in your bowl 'cuz she says you look like a "nice young man" and her husband grins at your question and points to a young lookin' guy and a younger lookin' girl who're unpacking some crates from the Piecemeal's boat.

"That nice brother and sister pair go by the name Roronoa," the jiisan tells you, and wipes his forehead with a handkerchief. "Normally we don't like pirates, but this past week the entire crew has been a great help to the whole village."

He tries to explain stuff about another pirate attack by some group called the Sun Flag pirates and how they'd been thwarted by Roronoa and his crew just a day or two ago, but you're too busy starin' at the smiling young lady tugging on her brother's sleeve and demanding—all cute like—that he buy her somethin' nice since they don't ever get to stay at a big town like this very long.

And all you have to say on the matter is, "Well shit."

**3. The Hunt**

You ain't gonna kill her, but you figure it should be fine—kill the brother maybe since you already got paid half and you can just not take payment for the second half afterwards on account of only fifty percent of the job bein' done.

Sounds doubtful in your mind even as you think it, but you'll be damned if you go off and shoot someone's sweet little sister just 'cuz some fat bastard ain't ever gonna have good depth perception ever again.

You hope the half you did get is enough for _your_ sweet little sister, but you tell yourself there's always another job out there somewhere and you'll fuckin' steal if you gotta so she'll get her medicine, even though you don't like it.

You're thinkin' too damn much, you realize.

You figure it's best to get this shit done and over with fast as possible.

So you spend just a few hours on your second day shadowin' them, figure they look pretty normal far as pirates go. Don't see any of those damned Devil's Fruit abilities from what you can tell, but then again, some of 'em you can't tell just like that. He's got a pretty small sized crew from the looks of things, two fruity lookin' bastards and a grinnin' idiot in addition to him'n his sister. None of 'em look all that impressive either, but you know not to judge just based on looks. Your ma's pretty small after all, but she can still put you in a figure four in the blink of an eye whenever you smart mouth her or don't eat all your vegetables.

You fire a test shot—straight at your target's head.

He doesn't move.

The grinning dumbass to the side moves though, draws his own gun and fires without breaking stride, without turning his head.

You ain't ever seen someone other than yourself shoot another bullet outta the sky before. And you definitely ain't ever seen someone faster on the draw than you.

But even if it complicates things, you still think it's pretty damned cool.

**4. Sisters**

You follow 'em around after that and know they know you're followin' them, though they don't seem worried about it or nothin'. You think that maybe it'll be the first challenge in a long time and it excites you a little, makes it feel like more'n just a job to get your sister her medicine.

You'd dreamed about being the world's best hunter way back when—that bear pelt on the floor of your livin' room from when you were about six is still your prized accomplishment. Hard times changed things though, pirates killed your pa and a bunch of other people in your small farm town and it was just you'n ma to take care of everythin' for as long as you can remember after that—Birdy was always sick even though she tried to put her brave face on'n help out when she could.

You discovered huntin' humans wasn't so different from huntin' animals after you turned fourteen—only difference was huntin' humans paid better, and even though your ma didn't know what you was doing it sure was a weight offa her shoulders when you decided to take care of your sister's schoolin' and her medicine all on your own. She always was smarter'n you after all, maybe one day when she gets her strength back she'll be able to take care of ma all on her own and you won't have to put a bullet in another person's skull ever again.

'Til then you'll do whatever it takes to keep the money comin', even if it means takin' a big brother away from his sweet little sister.

She's probably smarter'n him anyway—do fine on her own, you give her the chance.

Sisters tend to be like that.

**5. Soup**

She is heaps smarter'n her brother it turns out.

You're watchin' them from your spot near that jiisan and baasan's closed oden stand come evening time. You ain't eaten since that morning all day, but it's been worse before-- you've gone _days _before. You can hear them on the ship though—loud and lively and completely at ease, even though you tried to put a bullet in their captain's head earlier this afternoon.

She comes out while the noise is still going strong, just somehow ends up next to you and you barely heard her at all—could have mistaken her for one of them wharf rats if she hadn't cleared her throat towards the end, and if somethin' hadn't smelled so damned good that it caught your attention.

You turn and look at her then, expect some sort of anger there, the kind you're used to seein' after you're cleanin' your knife offa the blood you got on it, kids and wives and siblings and parents and such lookin' at you, full of accusations. Eyes tellin' you you're a monster.

She smiles and hands you a bowl.

"Soup?" she asks, real nice like, and leans against the wall next to you. "I made it myself."

You ain't the kind of man takes things from the enemy so trustin' like, but it smelled good and she looked so much like your sister right then you couldn't say no, even if the stuff _was_ poisoned.

Turns out it wasn't, and that it tasted damned fine.

She asks you what you've got against her brother.

You tell her nothin'. Just a job.

"Oh," she says, and then slips you a little baggy of cookies after you answer. Then she's slidin' right back onto her ship as quiet as a shadow.

Turns out the cookies are in the shapes of little men—gingerbread pirates all smilin' and happy like.

You wonder how Birdy's doin'.

**6. Showdown**

Still got a job to do, but you got enough respect for the young miss now that you ain't gonna do this from the dark somewhere, like some damned coward. You wake up round about dawn on your third and final day; smoke yourself a cigar before headin' up to that ship, walkin' right on board.

Looks like he's expectin' you 'cuz he's there already, sleepin' right on the deck like he was waitin' all night. You wonder what kinda idiot can sleep sittin' up like that.

You fire a shot into the air.

It doesn't wake him.

You blink.

"Oi," you say, 'cuz this idiot might just be a damned sound sleeper. "Oi, wake the hell up. I'm callin' you out."

You only get snores.

"OI!" you repeat, louder now. Startin' to piss you off mighty fine. "Fucker, get up!! I ain't gonna kill you in your goddamned sleep but don't mean I won't kick your ass 'til you wake!!"

No response.

You give up and kick him. Hard.

He grunts and cracks an eye open. "The hell do you want?"

"I said I'm callin' you out!" you shout, and never felt so damned pissed off in your life.

He grins. "Oh."

You can't really believe what the hell's goin' on here, but long as he's awake you figure you can do your goddamned job now. You pull your gun. "So let's fight already."

He stands and yawns, stretches languidly. "Okay."

You think his sister is _definitely_ the smart one of the two.

**7. Santoryuu+Kick Course**

He may be kinda dumb, but you suppose he's pretty damned strong too.

You manage to hold out against the three swords pretty damn well—you ain't a slouch after all—but then the fucker start's movin' in ways no swordsman's supposed to move in. He suddenly turns and_ twists_ so as to kick you from _upside-down_ and you aren't fast enough to dodge that one. Maybe you're too damned surprised. You end up flying into the wall with a crunch and the wind knocked outta your lungs.

And all you can think is, "_What the hell IS that?"_ while you try to find your breath again, while you reload your magazine and dodge the swords _and feet_ flyin' right near your head.

He's fast for a bastard who just woke up, and you feel the blade nick your skin a coupla times where you aren't fast enough back, and you might just have to use that goddamned grenade in your back pouch after all—last resort, close range, forgive me mama, I tried my best, love, your dead son.

"You're not bad!" he breathes at you, and grins like it's some sort of game or morning exercise. "Maybe when we're done we can go and eat breakfast with everyone else."

You think he's crazy, though truth be told, you wouldn't mind morea the young miss's soup.

"Gotta kill you first, I'm afraid," you tell him, and shoot at his head. He blocks with one of his swords and whirls toward you.

This time you don't move to dodge or block, figure if you can grab one of the swords even if it's in your gut you'll have him long enough to get that grenade to working, 'cuz don't look like nothin' else is gonna kill this asshole.

What saves you both is the fact that somethin' _else_ explodes first.

**8. Out Comes the Sun**

A giant galleon flyin' a sunshine skull flag rounds the cove at full speed, cannons blazing, and two buildings on the far end of the pier get taken out, narrowly missin' the boat you're fightin' on.

Both you'n the Piecemeal senchou pause at that. Stare for a second.

Somethin' that friendly jiisan said to you two days ago comes to mind, and you turn to look at your opponent.

"Fuckin' Sun Flag Pirates?" you ask.

He blinks, scratches his head. "I guess."

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU GUESS?!"

He grins at you. "I don't really remember how they looked. Didn't pay attention."

"Fuck's sake," you mutter, and the cannons keep firing and early morning fishmongers and the like scream and begin running for cover.

You see jiisan and baasan's oden shop take a clip to the side wall from a misfired cannonball and for some reason that pisses you the hell off, 'specially since it was the best damned oden you'd had in a long while.

"Postponed," you tell that grinning idiot senchou, and reload your gun.

"Sure," he says, and takes the bandanna from his arm, ties it on his head.

**9. Teamwork**

You think it's kind of unbelievable how one of the fruity bastards from before fires that cannon, and even more fuckin' unbelievable how the young miss and the grinning idiot are in a fight, how that _other _fruity bastard with the glasses can move with those hands and leave only twitching bodies in his wake.

They definitely don't need your goddamned help takin' this enemy ship out even if the odds are twenty to one and no one from the Piecemeals has had a chance to get out of their pajamas yet.

The cannoneer yawns and complains that he wants coffee and he's still got bed head, all the while firing away, landing a hole in one through the skull on the flag.

They definitely don't need your help. But you're still kinda inexplicably pissed off about the oden shop so you help out anyway.

After everyone's taken care of ('bout two, three minutes after first shots were fired), you help them tie up the refuse too, and one of the defeated scowls at you and shouts, "WE WERE ON YOUR SIDE, DUMBASS! WE WERE HELPING YOU WHEN YOU WERE LOSING!!! BOSS SENT US!"

You kind of blink at that and wonder what the hell this idiot is on, but then you see the tattoo on his arm and you remember seein' that sun symbol before somewhere, from some fat fuck with one eye who'd said he'd give five hundred thousand beli to kill a pair of pirates.

"BOSS IS GONNA GET YOU!" the guy keeps on going, "THERE ARE A THOUSAND OF US AND WE'LL NEVER STOP UNTIL BOSS'S HONOR IS AVENGED! YOU JUST WAIT AND…"

You cold clock him with the butt of your gun 'cuz you don't really care.

"Well shit," you say to yourself as you holster your weapon again. You suddenly figure you're out of a goddamned job.

**10. Contracted**

"You know, being a pirate's a pretty lucrative job," the young miss says to you seemingly out of the blue afterwards, when you're in the infirmary and the fruity bastard with the lightning hands is touching you up, surprisingly gentle-like.

"I don't take well to lootin' and pillagin' helpless villages," you tell her, and it's an automatic response rather than you actually believin' she does that kinda shit. You remember how your pa died, after all.

"We don't do that," she says anyway, and laughs like you kind of made a dumb joke or somethin'. She beams. "The pirates who _do _do that though… can be surprisingly easy to persuade into trading their treasure for their lives."

The doctor smirks a bit himself at that. "Indeed."

You wonder what the hell they're gettin' at.

"Lady, I'm a wanted man," you tell her. "You hear that bastard earlier? Ain't a line of work I'm in you can just give up on a target and expect to walk away from A-okay. They'll be huntin' me 'til there's a bullet in my head."

"Wanted, hmmm?" she looks thoughtful.

"Sounds like a pirate already," the fruity ass cannoneer purrs from the doorway, holding a tray of coffee for everyone.

"I think so too," the young miss echoes. "So, how would you like to_ not_ kill people for a living from now on, hmmm?"

You look around, and so far looks as though you've got two fruity bastards and a smart little sister on your side.

"Senchou don't like me much," you remind them.

They all share a smile.

And so it looks like senchou don't got a chance either way.

"Then, shall I go make everyone breakfast?" the young miss asks after a beat. "How's pancakes sound?"

When you hear that, you can't help but think to yourself that maybe this whole pirate gig's got some potential after all.

**END**


	24. Apples and Trees

**Title: **Apples and Trees  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Universe:** One Piece  
**Theme/Topic: **Ready  
**Character/Pairing/s: **ZoroxSanji, OMC, OFC, Luffy in spirit.  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** None!  
**Word Count:** 701  
**Time:** 20 mins?  
**Summary:** CR rituals verse- Like fathers like… well, you know.  
**Dedication:** prize drabble for tsukishine over at my regular lj.  
**A/N: ** SCHMOOP! ALL I WANT RIGHT NOW IS SCHMOOP, OKAY? It's been a tiring week. I just want cuddles and cute. Forgive me the absolute pointlessness. XD  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, though I wish constantly.  
**Distribution:** Just lemme know.

* * *

Zoro grinned. "You ready?"

His companion nodded, a determined set to his little jaw. "Yup!"

They both eyed the two blonds sighing at them from the side. "Count us down!" the kid insisted, gesturing to his sister.

Sanji glared at Zoro. "You're a bad example."

Zoro's grin just broadened. "He's a Roronoa—iron stomach."

"Not an iron skull too, I hope," the chef sighed.

"Probably!" the little girl in his lap chimed in, and he chuckled and patted her head.

Zoro rolled his eyes. His son echoed the gesture. "They totally don't get us," the swordsman decided.

"Yup."

"Count us down, darlin'," Zoro insisted anyway, and winked at his daughter.

She laughed, complied. "Three!"

"Not you too," Sanji griped, amusement mixed with resignation.

She smiled sweetly at him. "Two!"

He smiled back, touched his nose to hers. "One!" they said in unison, and Sanji took it as his cue to sweep her up onto her shoulders for a better view as the race began.

On the flag, the two meatheads on the other side of the table began shoveling spicy hot ramen into their mouths as fast as physically possible.

Eyes watered from the seasonings and noses ran from the heat, breathes sucked in big gulps through teeth for greater speed.

"You're a hundred years too early to beat me!" Zoro said around a mouthful of noodles, steam practically coming out of his ears. He'd had lots of practice at speaking around things in his mouth, Sanji supposed.

"Mybe _ur _a hundet ears tooh rate, shtty ohld mahn!"

Their son had decidedly less practice at speaking around things in his mouth, but was still probably better than most average people considering. Sanji worried sometimes. "Don't talk with your mouth full," he chastised, purely out of habit.

The princess sitting astride his shoulders laughed and patted his hair. "Daddy he drooled all over himself!"

Sanji looked up at her, wry. "Which one?"

"Shitfuck I got some of the broth in my eye," Zoro complained, ignoring the burning and wiping it off on the shoulder of his shirt before resuming.

It cost him a precious second.

"Ahm whinning!"

"Like hell, brat!"

Sanji rolled his eyes and stood then, gently deposited his daughter back onto the seat. Very calmly, he went to the cutting board and sliced up some bread for the aftermath of this great pissing contest.

"DONE!" both swordsman and son declared at exactly the same time three minutes later, tongues on fire but bearing through the pain because they were _men._

"Tie!!" their avid little pigtailed spectator declared, all official like.

Zoro grinned at her, between sucking air through his mouth to try and cool it down. He reached across the table and plucked her up, settled her in his lap. "What'd I tell you about ties?"

She rolled her eyes. "No such thing! There are winners and there are losers who try and say 'tie' but they're really losers with no honor."

He beamed. "Yup!"

"So then who won?"

"Obviously two winners—Roronoas don't lose."

Sanji snorted over the plate of bread he'd sliced. "Roronoas don't think sometimes either."

Zoro chortled and looked absolutely smug. "What _exactly, _is that supposed to mean eh, _Roronoa Sanji_?"

The blond twitched at the reminder, but managed to regain his composure almost instantly. "Nothing," he said after a moment, and nonchalantly tipped the giant pot previously containing spicy ramen broth sideways so the group at the table could see it in all its completely empty glory. "So… just out of curiosity, how many people besides me noticed Luffy walk in, dump everything into his mouth—including my dishwashing liquid-- and walk out?" he asked, all casual like. "It's understandable if you didn't—it only took him about fifteen seconds to _eat everything_."

Zoro and son stared.

The princess in Zoro's lap raised her hand. "I saw it!" she giggled. "He drooled all over himself, right daddy??"

Sanji chuckled and deposited the plate of bread on the table for his two idiots to cool down with. "Gentlemen," he said, plucking her from Zoro's lap and holding her up above his head, "I do believe we have a winner."

All not-losers-but-not-winners-_exactly _were forced to do dishes.

**END**


	25. Intimidating

**Title:** Intimidating  
**Universe:** One Piece/OMCs  
**Theme/Topic:** Show Stopper  
**Rating:** G  
**Character/Pairing/s:** OMCxOMC (mentions of OP characters)  
**Warnings/Spoilers:** randomness  
**Word Count: **935  
**Summary:** companion drabble to the series that started with "Captain's Cycle"- A pirate's reputation is more precious than gold.**  
Dedication:** cheloya's request on today's request meme!**  
A/N:** I don't remember what I was doing with these characters. Or what I did with them. But chances are you guys don't either. XD  
**Disclaimer:** No harm is meant by this!

* * *

A path immediately and mysteriously clears up for him when he pushes open the door to the small bar, the whole establishment going dead silent once the patrons see his face, once they recognize him for who he is. His eyes scan over each of them passingly in return, sizing them up.

When he decides no one here is any threat to him he finally takes a step forward, moving deliberately towards the bar.

"Beer," he says simply once he takes a seat, and the bartender shakes and bows and goes to get it right away despite the other customers waiting.

"See that dignified walk? That confident bearing? It's Piecemeal's Roronoa," the people who know his face inform the few who don't, and the minute the ignorant ones hear the familiar name they can match it to at least one legendary exploit that they've heard of in their time here on Grand Line. Everyone very quickly decides that it's best to just steer clear of Roronoa and his crew while they're in town.

"I heard he felled one of the shichibukai when he was just a kid," one of the bar patrons murmurs a little while later to a friend, voice awe filled.

_Damn straight_, Roronoa-taichou thinks to himself, and sits up a little straighter in his seat. He lets them gossip all they want like that because he's learned that it's better for him and his if other pirates avoid making trouble with them based on his reputation alone.

And it's not like what they're saying about him are all lies either, though the actual details of his fight with—and subsequent felling of— one of the legendary seven pirates may or may not involve more of a piggy back ride and uncle Ace's tendency to develop after-meal narcolepsy than it has anything to do with engaging in actual battle.

But they don't have to know that.

So he just smiles around the rim of his mug and enjoys his beer, every once in a while he makes a show of flexing the muscles in his arms when he drinks so that they can see the scars there, so they will know that all of the things they've heard about him have some real life backing.

"I heard he set fire to a revolutionary once," someone else counters in the back of the room.

_Habanero peppers in Kohza-jiichan's omu-rice_, he recalls fondly, and has to hold back the laughter so as not to ruin his very grave (and very badass) aura.

"Heard he kicked down the door to the Pirate King's house."

He winces a little at the memory of that one. _The Pirate Queen_, he recalls around a grimace,_ was not so happy about that_.

"I heard he's a playboy who's won the hearts of princesses and angels alike!"

_Vivi-baachan and Conis-baachan really do love me_.

"Heard he destroyed an entire marine galleon by himself. What fearsome power."

_Coby-taisa's model collection_, he remembers. _Grounded for a whole month._

Even still, he can't help but feel a little bit smug.

"So what everyone here is saying in general," a youngish looking busboy clarifies eventually, "is that he's big and scary and we should all let him do as he pleases, right?"

"Right," the others agree. "Don't get in his way."

The pirate in question decides that maybe he should stay here for the rest of the night tonight, and have a few more beers. The service should be _excellent _for the remainder of his time here for one thing, and for another, it's nice and peaceful and…

The door swings open.

The bar goes silent again.

"Senchou," a voice states blandly, and makes him cringe on instinct.

_Dammit_, he thinks, and when he reluctantly looks up from his mug he sees a familiar silhouette standing in the entryway, dark and brooding and emitting an aura full of rage and death and other very scary things. It is all accompanied by a sinister gleam of glasses.

Which may or may not make him _eep_ a little out loud, despite himself.

"May I ask," the voice continues without missing a beat, sounding mysteriously calm as the figure steps further into the filthy bar, "what someone who was shot thirteen times _yesterday morning _is doing in a bar this late at night, drinking _alcohol_ instead of resting as per his doctor's very clear and direct orders?"

He tries to play it off cool. People are watching, after all. "Getting some fresh air?" he responds eventually, and is very proud of himself when his voice does not crack very much. "Fresh air is good for me, right?" Pause. Charming smile. "Shall I buy you a drink too, sensei?"

A hand clamps down on his shoulder, subsequently numbing the nerve there and causing him to drop his mug. "No, thank you. I think you're quite done buying drinks tonight, Senchou."

He looks at his half-empty mug mournfully. "But…"

"We're leaving. Now."

"But I don't wanna," he whines, and completely forgets that he'd been playing it cool just now. Booze (and the possibility of not being able to drink booze) does that to him sometimes.

But despite his protests, he gets yanked off of his barstool anyway, much to the wide-eyed amazement of everyone else there. He manages a sheepish smile. "What're you gonna do, right?" he asks the onlookers in parting, and lets the fuming physician drag him towards the door without a fight.

"Who is _that_?" someone asks.

"That," someone else answers_, _"is _also_ a Roronoa."

"Oooh," the others murmur eventually, and figure it makes sense. Kind of.

**END**


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